The Blood Of Others
by notmanos
Summary: Demonverse' crossover A brutal attack forces the X Men to call in Bob for help. And an incident from his past may tie Xavier to Logan.
1. Part 1

Disclaimer:The character of Logan & all X Men is also owned by 20th Century Fox and Marvel Comics.No copyright infringement intended. (Angel does not appear, but there are references.) Bob is still mine - hands off. 

N.B.: Takes place shortly after the "X Men" movie, and WUF. 

    THE BLOOD OF OTHERS                                                                                                   

    1 

Toronto,Canada 

    The funny thing was,in spite of it all,he could smell them. 

This bar was far from his choice of establishments:it was crowded and noisy,and perhaps the worst crime of all,'trendy'.Or at least striving hard to be,which was probably worse. 

The bar,oh so imaginatively called Babylon,was neon lit in acidic rainbow hues where it wasn't filled with deliberate pockets of shadows,which hid the booths where the drug deals were taking place.The dance floor was in another room,but he could feel the vibrations of the bass through the floorboards,a direct contradiction to the throbbing bass of the rock music in the bar,Nickelback growling about something being 'too bad'.Logan bet it was too loud by even human standards,but to him the music was nuclear detonation level,almost physically abusive.And yet nowhere near as assaultive as the smells. 

It was too many hot bodies in a poorly ventilated space:deodorant and aftershave;perfume and hair products;alcohol and sweat;marijuana and cigarettes;hope and desire,and desperation and fear. 

But there was a smell beneath even that noisome miasma,a strange scent that had gripped him as he walked blithely past them as the group entered the club,a scent that made him stop and follow,and even in this swamp of smells he had not lost the thread of it:it was like an infrared fillment glowing against the dark background of the crowd,and despite their attempts at camouflage, they stood out vividly in this crowd,even if no one else noticed them. 

They were young enough to blend,yes,but their hair was cute too short,they were dressed to blandly,and carried themselves with a rigid,military air.Also,they nursed their drinks without ever really drinking them,their intense yet dead eyes scouring the room but always surreptitiously locked on a young man at the bar,who had unsuccessfully tried to chat up two women and one man,and was now on his third drink in an hour.He was a slip of a man,a tall drink of water but no older than twenty two, with expensively styled brown hair and stylish clothes,and didn't look like a threat to the drunkest woman in here,nonetheless to the eight men who had followed him in and were now sizing him up for inevitable captured.Of course,Logan had seem him do nothing out of the ordinary,but he wouldn't,not here,not surrounded by normals. 

Logan was quietly amazed he knew the scent of the soldiers,even without seeing them in gear.Only now did he realize it was the scent of some industrial detergent ,one he had no idea he knew the scent of,something so burned into his subconscious that even hours of cigarettes and weapons grade coffee couldn't bury it.And the assholes walked right past him,never recognizing him as Wolverine. 

Well,they never even looked at him-they were on a plain clothed mission to get this kid.He had no idea why,but he could guess. 

Finally,the torture ended.The kid's pager went off (why the hell did he have a pager?),and after squinting to see its tiny readouts in the shadow of some blood red gel lights,he headed for the door.The soldiers shadowing him started to follow him out,with the kid still oblivious to their presence.Logan gulped down the rest of his overpriced beer,and waited until the last of the soldiers had fought his way out of Babylon before casually trailing after.He looked like he didn't belong here,but the few bewildered stares he got he met with acidic glares that seemed to burn all the rudeness out of them.And,as if the entire crowd had learned by osmosis,the mob of patrons near the door easily parted for him,deciding he was just better left alone. 

Smart crowd. 

Logan paused outside the club and enjoyed the relative silence of a city at night,the sounds of the cars and the sharp voices of people close to music to his ears.He also took a deep breath of air laden with exhaust and garbage,tinged with smog and various other human inflicted smells,but it was like heaven compared to the atmosphere of the club. 

And there was the smell of the soldiers again,and the boy,and something else,something new.Adrenaline.The guys were pumped:they thought they were getting themselves a mutie tonight. 

Yeah,they were getting a mutie all right.But not the one they had been counting on,and not in the manner they intended. 

The parking lot was in the back,behind the pseudo aluminum facade of the club (and precisely who thought it was a good idea to make a club look like an Airstream trailer?),every available space taken with mostly newer model cars,suggesting this place wasn't for just the young more than the young,better off,and slumming crowd.No wonder he got evil looks:he wasn't even within a light year of any of those niches.But the bouncer-wherever he was-was probably too scared to toss him out. 

As Logan came around the corner,he could see the kid near the end of the lot,in spite of the conveniently broken street lights that kept the parking area blanketed in shadows.If the kid had a decent sense of hearing or smell he still could have noticed the eight men fanning out across the lot in a standard 'noose' position,a net that closed ever tighter until the kid was helplessly boxed in and trapped in the middle,but of course he didn't notice.He put his pager away and searched for his car keys,perhaps peripherally aware of some of the men but unconcerned (after all,even if they were muggers he was a mutant,right?He could handle it).Logan wondered if he was ever that stupid. 

Well,maybe once.But never again. 

As the kid approached his car,one of the men moved in,removing a paralyzer from the pocket of his black canvas jacket.These idiots had not noticed Logan,and he moved fast enough that he never gave them a chance to send out an alarm. 

He grabbed the man with the paralyzer and forced his hand into his neck,making the soldier paralyze himself.The electric snap and flash of blue that occurred with the paralyzer discharging brought everyone's attention to him,even before he dropped the soldier onto the pavement like so much garbage,his weapon falling from his useless hands and bouncing underneath a car. 

It was hard to say who was more shocked:the kid or the remaining seven soldiers,who all looked at him with stunned,slack expressions.Logan focused on the oldest looking man among the commandos,assuming he was the de facto leader.He couldn't have been older than twenty seven,but severe acne scarring had given his craggy face the texture of pumice-he honestly did look like a type you wanted to avoid in a dark alley,if only because it looked as if he routinely washed his face in an acid bath."Why don't you stop picking on kids and take on someone your own size?"Logan growled. 

The man with the pitted face scowled at him,his monobrow lowering over his two little eyes,making them almost disappear inside his cratered face."Who the fuck are you?"He demanded,his voice sounding as scrubbed raw as his face. 

Logan smirked,a corner of his mouth briefly twitching upward as he noticed two soldiers-one on the left,one on the right-were moving in closer on him.They weren't flanking him yet,but the one on the right was starting to sidle that way.As if that would really help.He waited for the noose to tighten,the men to close in,before he bothered to acknowledge him. "Jeeze,what an ego blow.I thought  I was a legend among your kind.Here's a clue."He popped his claws and lashed out at the soldier on the right ,who was moving in with his paralyzer.He barely felt the tingle of electricity run up his claws as he sliced the paralyzer into shreds,and kicked out with his left foot,planting a solid kick that snapped the other soldier's leg like a dried twig,the crack of the bone echoing through the dark lot before the man screamed and collapsed as if shot. 

"Ah fuck,Wolverine,"the pineapple faced man exclaimed,making a hand gesture that brought all the rest of the troops swarming down like a cloud of angry wasps. 

The kid scrambled to get out of the mob,and managed to do so,as no one was paying any attention to him anymore.Still,it didn't take him long to work his way through the soldiers:the paralyzers ended up as so much plastic confetti and their faces pretty much ended up bloody pools of mush in a few well placed slashes,punches,and kicks.The few who managed to land a hit just broke their knuckles on him.Without their body armor,they couldn't fight for shit. 

The kid was hiding behind a ludicrously big black Durango and watching as he devastated the group.Logan admittedly needed no help,but the fact that the kid didn't even attempt to help save his own neck made Logan wonder why he even bothered to help him in the first place. 

Ah,hell,who was he kidding?This wasn't about helping the kid-this was about kicking some soldier's asses. 

"What-"the kid began,finally slinking out from behind his hiding place after the last man fell.He then changed his tune mid-sentence."Who the hell were these guys?" 

"Assholes who capture and experiment on mutants,"he told him,retracting his claws.The very act made the jittery kid jump,and he could smell his fear even though the wind was at Logan's back.But as far as Logan was concerned,he should be scared, because he was tempted to kick his ass for being such a wimp."For whatever reason,bub,they've homed in on you.I suggest you start running and don't stop until you hit the border." 

He turned and stalked away,glad he got to release a little tension,but it didn't feel like enough.Too bad there couldn't be another squad laying in wait as back up. 

He was at the edge of the lot when the kid called out,tentatively,"Thank you." 

Logan didn't look back.He gave him the finger over his shoulder,and walked on. 

Kids. 

*** 

    Logan heard the telephone ringing as soon as he got off the elevator. 

From his relative distance at the end of the hall,he assumed it was coming from a room beside his,but as he walked down the bland beige corridor towards the dark brown door of his temporary room,he realized the ringing phone was his. 

It had to be a wrong number:he didn't even know his own hotel room phone number,nonetheless given it to anyone. 

But by the time he had pulled his key card out of his pocket,the phone was on its fifteenth ring-and that was assuming it started the second he stepped out of the elevator.Wrong number or not,they were certainly determined. 

Only when he swiped the mag card through the slot  did it occur to him it could be Professor Xavier.He'd called him before, even when Logan himself wasn't sure where he was.Of course,he was checking up on him,the telepathic busybody... 

And with a shock of fear as palpable as an ice pick to the heart,he had an insane,paranoid thought that something had happened to Naomi. 

Shit-in spite of everything the Professor had in place,it wasn't enough to protect her and her parents.He was so certain that was it he could almost taste it. 

Cursing under his breath,he shoved open the weighted door hard enough to make its pneumatic hinge wheeze like an old man staggering up his eighth flight of stairs,and darted to the phone,not even bothering to turn on a light.He didn't need it anyways:he knew he layout of the room,and he knew by smell that he was alone. 

He grabbed the reciever hard enough to send the base of the phone off the nightstand,but the cord was so short the base never hit the carpet;it simply dangled,halfway between the table and the floor."Yeah?"He asked,almost breathless from the adrenaline surging through his system. 

"Logan,I need you to come back here right away,"the clipped,plummy voice of Xavier responded,not even bothering with a greeting. 

"Is it Naomi?" 

"No,she's fine,"he said,then paused.He sounded tense,which was absolutely abnormal for him.Xavier was usually so cool you figured he had ice in his shorts."I think you'll see what's happened as soon as you arrive.Come as soon as you can" 

""What-"he began,but Xavier had already hung up. 

Logan pulled the base of the phone back up to the nightstand by the cord and hung up,wondering what had to happen to freak Xavier out.It had to be bad. 

But he couldn't help but be a little incensed:he was not one of his 'X Men'.He'd helped them out more than they helped  
him,frankly:if anything was owed,it was from them to him.Still,Xavier had helped him when he didn't have to.Of the whole group,he was probably the best of them.At least he generally meant well. 

Ah fuck-he had to go if only just for curiosity's sake.What could freak Xavier out?This he had to see. 

Still moving in darkness,he grabbed the small rucksack that contained all his worldly possessions and headed back out the door,figuring he could be in New York by sunrise if he broke every speeding law known to man. 

    2 

    Even with a bike that could break land speed records,his estimate of arrival was off by a couple of hours,but it was still so early in the morning that Logan didn't give a damn.He was stiff and cold and eager to get the hell off his bike,if indeed he could peel his hands off the handlebars,as they felt frozen to the grips. 

So he was glad when he finally took the off ramp shortcut to a street that ran through a small little burg called Riverton, so tiny it wasn't even a dot on a map.It was more like a street and three intersections,with maybe a couple dozen handfuls of people overall.Xavier knew what he was doing by putting his 'school' in a place where the closest actual town was so tiny it was doubtful they'd notice anything strange in all their gratitude for the money he pumped into their anemic little speedbump of a town. 

His initial observation that Riverton seemed a bit dead this morning was suddenly followed by another observation:the town was completely deserted. 

He sat idling the bike in the middle of the first intersection,putting one foot down to hold up himself and the bike as he slowly scanned the new ghost town.It was more than abandoned:a cold North wind picked up,and brought the evidence to his nose. 

It smelled like death. 

Coppery blood and fear induced flop sweat,mingled with the unmistakable sickly sweet scent of decaying flesh.Someone had cleaned up-there were no bodies in evidence-but there was a lot of other evidence:buildings with broken facades and chunks missing out of them,as if someone had went nuts with a wrecking ball;a huge crack down main street,almost a foot wide and six feet long,as if there had been a massive earthquake (but an earthquake in New York?);and every now and again there was an irregular brown patch on the sidewalks and on the sides of roads,brown flecks on still intact walls like paint.But he knew it was old blood:exposed to air for a long period of time,blood oxidized,almost literally rusted like metal.There were a couple of carbonized black spots,as if localized explosions had occurred there,but nothing more than that,no body parts,no charred skin. 

A fight had happened here;a big,apocalyptic fight.And the town had lost. 

The worst part of all was he had missed it.Had the other 'X Men'? 

No-those char marks could be the residue of lightning strikes,and the holes through a couple of the buildings could be the result of  Cyclops's aim being way off. 

Was that why Xavier was so freaked out?They couldn't stop whatever happened here? 

He suddenly wondered if they had died trying. 

He revved the bike and moved on,driving over the cracked and bloodied sidewalk to avoid the huge chasm in the center of the road,wondering if he'd reach the mansion in time for a funeral. 

As soon as he was inside the gates of the mansion,Logan noticed that someone was in the shadows of the front entrance, waiting for him,in spite of the early morning hour.As he parked the bike,he caught a scent on the wind,and knew it was Rogue. 

She ran up to him as he got off the bike,looking pale and fraught,and almost literally threw herself in his arms as he turned around,nearly toppling him backwards over the bike.Luckily,he kept his balance,and her bare skin never touched his,although it was a close thing as she buried his face in his chest."Logan,I'm so glad you cam back,"she said,not sobbing,but coming very close."It was awful." 

He patted her back awkwardly,careful to touch only her denim jacket,and tried to hide his impatience to get inside and talk to the Professor."What happened to Riverton?"He asked her."Who hit it?" 

"I don't know,"she admitted,sounding defeated."They didn't know either,or they just won't tell me.They didn't let me come with them." 

"Good,"he said,holding her at arm's length and gently moving her aside.He really needed to go in and have a talk with the Professor now. 

Rogue punched him in the shoulder,a bit hard for her,but not so hard she broke a bone."Hey,"he protested,frowning sourly at her.It didn't hurt,but it was the principal of the thing. 

She tried to scowl,but it turned into a pout on her young,heart shaped face."Not good,damn it.If I was there to help,maybe that thing wouldn't have happened to Storm." 

He looked at her curiously."What happened to Storm?" 

Before she could say anything,Jean appeared,opening the door of the mansion and giving him a smile so frail it was hardly a gesture at all.She looked even more drawn and weary than Rogue,dark circles ringing her brown eyes like she had been up all night and rest was nowhere in sight.The fact that she was wearing her long white 'doctor's' coat was an indication that whatever had happened to Storm was very bad indeed. 

He followed her silently through the dark wood halls of the school,Rogue trailing behind,but when they reached the elevator, Jean barred her way in."You have to get ready for class,Marie,"she said,her voice tired but firm. 

Rogue did the pouty thing again,looking very much like the teenager she was."I want to-"she began,but Jean didn't give her time to finish her sentence. 

"We're not having this argument again.Go on." 

Rogue gave him a 'help me' sort of look,but he shook his head:if Jean didn't want her coming along,he assumed she had a good reason for it.Also,he knew getting in between women having a fight was a good way to get yourself killed. 

Rogue backed up,still attempting a scowl as the elevator doors closed,and they sank to the lower levels of the school,the 'complex'. 

As soon as the doors opened on the steel grey halls of the underground...well,whatever the hell it was,he asked,"What the fuck happened out there?How's Storm?" 

Jean ran a hand nervously through her hair,strands springing from her loose ponytail as she did so,and started down the hall,just assuming he'd follow.He did."She's still alive.I think." 

"You think?"He repeated in disbelief,wondering if that was her attempt at a joke.But Jean didn't seem to have much in the way of a sense of humor,so he assumed not. 

Before he could ask for further details,they had reached the infirmary,where everyone else seemed to be gathered.He saw the Professor sitting on the far side of the room,looking surprisingly grim,and old One Eye sitting on the edge of a lab table off to the Professor's right,his left arm in a sling.But in the center of the room,laying on the same diagnostic table where that Kelly guy dissolved into a big pile of goo,was Storm,so pale under the blue sheet pulled up to her shoulders she was almost as white as her hair.Four machines surrounded the table,and their bleeps and blips were rhythmic but surprisingly slow.Several tubes snaked out from under the sheet to the machines,and while he didn't know what was in them,he could say for certain she was not receiving blood. 

Logan asked,for what he hoped was the last time:"What the hell happened?" 

The Professor looked up at him,steepling his hands under his chin,his look still dour."There was a fight yesterday,and one of the students,Jessie Langencamp,ran off.Storm went after him,and found him in Riverton-which turned out to be under attack." 

"Under attack by what?" 

"We're still not sure,"Jean admitted,sounding dispirited."We've never encountered anything like them before." 

"They weren't Human,"the Professor commented dolefully. 

"What the hell else could they be?"Scott exploded in frustration,his brow furrowing around his protective visor. 

"They still could be mutants of a type we've never seen before,"Jean offered,although he wasn't sure to who. 

Logan was ready to start breaking shit in frustration."What the fuck were they?They killed the whole damn town!" 

"They appeared Human-strange,but Human,"Jean answered,fiddling pointlessly with the machines surrounding Storm's bed. "At first.And then they transformed into..."She trailed off,obviously uncertain about what to say. 

"Logan,"Xavier said,and when Logan looked at him,he stared at him intently,and he figured out what the Professor intended to do.He nodded faintly,giving him permission,and braced himself. 

This type of telepathy wasn't like the first time,or like the type practiced by Bob,which was so subtle as to be imperceptible.It was like the sun exploded inside his mind,blinding and somewhere beyond pain,but as the blinding yellow light faded away in his mind's eye,figures formed. 

They looked like tall,broad shouldered men,beaten half to death with the ugly stick:skin textured like leather and colored like parchment,with something like bloodless scars criss crossing their face over the bridges of their strangely thin noses,as narrow as knife blades,their hair shoulder length,greasy veils of ebony.Their eyes,small but wide,seemed like muddy pools of water:without pupils or white,just a dark brown,a color that wasn't so much a color as an absence of once.There were five of them,and they all looked alike,identical quintuplets,right down to their ratty denim overcoats,and clothes so scruffy it made them look like oil derrick workers on a break. 

And as they walked down the center of the street,the light of the moon high overhead,they transformed. 

They seemed to grow two feet higher and three feet wider,their clothes submerging beneath skin as thick and poreless as a rhinoceros hide as their facial features blurred and sank,their mouths becoming wide,lipless slashes,red rimmed and full of jagged,ivory needle teeth.Their eyes remained,wider and more fathomless,like bottomless pits. 

And suddenly their two arms became four tentacles,and if the men (?) were now eight or nine feet high,their whip thin tentacles unfurled to nearly twelve feet in length.And rather than suction cups,the tentacles were rife with curved black claws, like thorns. 

'Demons,' he thought instantly,but tried to banish that,as it sounded insane even to him.But hadn't he seen enough in L.A. to know them when he saw them?He was sorry the Professor's telepathy couldn't supply smell as well as audio and visual. 

The telepathic feed stopped,and he felt a dull ache in the center of his head,like someone had jammed a red hot pipe through the top of his skull.But it was fading even as he looked around the room,blinking as he adjust to reality once more."Those were fucking ugly,"he said,crossing his arms over his chest to avoid rubbing his temple."How'd they get to Storm?" 

"One of them grabbed her,"Scott said,pouting himself. 

"And?" 

"And that's it.It grabbed her,and she just...fell comatose.Jean got her loose,but she hasn't regained consciousness yet." 

"Their claws are poisonous?"Logan guessed,then scowled at Scott."Jean got her loose?Why not you?" 

The Boy Scout's pout turned into a frown that reminded Logan he's seen more frightening coffee tables."I tried,damn it!But it only worked once." 

"They adapted rapidly to our attack,"Jean explained,with a tired sigh.Her face was the color of damp wool,and he thought she might pass out.He realized she was in pain as well as simply exhausted."Storm hit one of them with a lightning bolt once,and it knocked them over,but didn't seem to harm them.The second time,the other one just seemed to...absorb the electricity.And that's when it grabbed her." 

"And you couldn't blast them to hell?"Logan asked Scott,his scowl deepening.Some fucking leader he was. 

"I hurt one,and that was it." 

"It absorbed your energy too?" 

"No.Its skin became mirrored,and it reflected the beam right back.I had to dive out of the way,and it still winged me."He admitted with great self-loathing,briefly lifting up his slinged arm in case Logan couldn't put two and two together."With my own goddamn beam." 

"There's no toxin in her system,as far as I can tell,"Jean continued."It seemed to absorb her brain's electrical energy as well as the lightning bolt." 

Logan was tempted to say demon again,but didn't."Could they be like Rogue?Absorbing powers?" 

"I think that may be part of it,"Xavier admitted."But not all.That doesn't explain the physical transformations,the adaptations to our mutations.Well,almost all of our mutations."At that,Xavier glanced at Jean,and Logan picked that up. 

"They couldn't adapt to you."He said,although it was almost a question. 

She nodded."Telekinesis seemed to frustrate them,so they left." 

"But not before killing everyone they could touch,"Logan mused bitterly. 

"We were too late,"Jean said somberly."As far as I can tell,the townspeople died from their touch.Whether Storm was saved because she was a mutant,or it didn't have a hold of her long enough to be lethal,I don't know." 

"Did you follow them?"Logan wondered,needing something to work off of,since the smell of the dead buried whatever scent may have been left behind."Or at least see which direction they took off in?" 

She shook her  head."I had to get Storm and Scott back to the mansion.Besides,I blinked and they were gone.One second they were back in their human form,headed down the street,and then I blinked and they were gone.I thought I saw movement in the darkness,but it didn't look like them." 

"Are you telling me these ugly fucks can teleport?" 

"I'm telling you I lost sight of them,Logan,"she snapped,her tired face becoming sharp with anger."Maybe if you'd been there,you could have followed them." 

He knew she was just lashing out in frustration,but he couldn't help but feel a little resentment."Hey,I never asked to join your little team-" 

"That's enough,"Xavier said,angry frustration burning in his own eyes."I didn't ask you come back so we could squabble like children." 

"What did you ask me back for?"Logan wondered,especially since the fight was over,and Storm wasn't dead.Well,yet. 

"Something Jean said,about a comment you made recently..."he began,but then the Professor sat up straighter in his wheelchair,a far away look in his steel blue eyes.It was the way his knuckles tightened on the arms of his chair until they were a bloodless,ghost white that made Logan realize what he was going to say before he said it. 

"They've come back."Professor Xavier said,breathless with unwelcome surprise. 

    3 

    "What?"Scott exclaimed.Not in disbelief,simply shock.He didn't know how to fight without his eyes,did he? 

It was then a noise that Logan had never heard before-an alarm-started bleet through the underground hallways,rebounding off the metal walls."They've come through the Eastern perimeter,"Scott commented,looking at Jean and the Professor,but not Logan.A different alarm for different sector breeches?Actually,that was pretty smart:no need for a confab,just identify the sound and haul ass. 

"Which perimeter is that?"Logan wondered,trying to mentally call up an image of the grounds."Back garden?" 

The Professor nodded."Atrium leading into the simulation area." 

"Right."Logan turned and started out of the infirmary,willing himself not to run until he was out of sight.God,he wanted a piece of those ugly bastards.Several pieces,in fact. 

"Hey,you don't think you can take them on alone,"Scott called after him,sounding like a scolding teacher addressing the world's biggest idiot. 

"I think I can try,"he admitted,letting the Boy Scout's pissy tone go.At least for now. 

"Logan,you can't let it touch you,"Jean added,sounding defeated. 

"Yeah,I got that part nailed."As soon as he was beyond the doors of the infirmary he ran to the nearest elevator,the klaxon continuing its ululating cry.The Professor had probably asked him back for just this scenario:now it was all on him.It was up to Logan to beat these suckers back,because everyone else had failed. 

And if he failed...holy shit,were they in trouble. 

*** 

    Logan supposed,in retrospect,he was expecting them to enter the building like the normal people they pretended to be,but he should have known better. 

He did the instant he reached the easternmost part of the mansion,just in time to see the ugly mothers literally walk through a wall.But they didn't pass through it-they took it down with them,chunks of wood and plaster collapsing as they came through, making man size holes in the outer walls.That freaked Logan out more than anything else:they didn't even care about doors. Maybe they didn't even know they were there. 

Because the Professor was right:they were not human. 

They smelled wrong;completely,utterly wrong. 

There was nothing human in their undertone,and they positively reeked:why didn't anyone mention that?They smelled like a swamp,one polluted with sewage and acetate,paint thinner and something sickly sweet,something like decaying flesh. 

Demons.Goddamn it,his first instinct was right. 

There was one ugly mother in the lead,with his equally ugly brothers fanned out behind him,two directly following him,and three after that.They looked as human as they could,for now,but he expected that to change rapidly. 

He popped his claws and charged,not bothering with any foreplay because they were in the mansion now,and a lot of people could die by the dozens.Or be completely wiped out,like Riverton. 

He was almost within decapitation range when the lead ugly seemed to explode upward,two thick arms becoming four monstrously long clay colored tentacles,lashing right towards him as it suddenly gained about two feet in height,and almost twice that in width. 

Good. 

He instantly put on the brakes,boot heels almost skidding along the red carpet in the wood paneled hallway,and slashed his hands in opposite directions as the tentacles came rushing for him,trying to envelope him on both sides. 

His claws met little resistance as they cut through the thick,muscular flesh like it was no more than paper. 

The tentacles went flying in all directions,thwacking wetly against the walls as it let out a noise that was more high pitched dental drill than scream,a noise so painfully inhuman he couldn't help but wince,and he had to fight back the urge the noise seem to evoke,a pure atavistic response to run as far from that noise as possible. 

Blood,as brownish grey as landfill mud,fountained from the enraged being's stumps,increasing the polluted smell in the suddenly too small corridor as its brethren exploded into what he thought of as their true form,and converged on him en masse.  



	2. Part 2

Even though he was ready for the Sargasso Sea of tentacles to come at him,he was surprised by the sudden exit of one of the ugly mothers on his right:it seemed to be thrown backwards,right through the wall it had just come through,this time hitting hard enough to take out most of the remaining wall and some of the ceiling.He seriously hoped that was not a load bearing wall. 

A quick glance over his shoulder showed that Jean was at the end of the hall now,white doctor's coat shed but still in her 'street clothes',right hand raised palm outward towards the fuglies,a look of deadly serious concentration on her face.But she also looked like she was in pain,a blue vein on her temple throbbing so visibly he thought he could take her pulse just by looking at it,and he wondered how much telekinesis she could throw around in a short amount of time.As tentacles swarmed towards him,he noticed that the skin of these goddamn things seemed to flow like molten silver,their flesh becoming metal even as he lashed out with his claws in two directions and delivered a backwards kick at the same time,trying to force at least one of them back. 

Sparks flew on contact,but the metal encasing their tentacles-whatever it was-was not strong enough to keep his claws from slicing through them like flesh,and while he felt an electric shock of pain shudder down his leg from his foot connecting solidly with metal,the metal inside his foot was a hell of a lot stronger than what it had coated itself with,and it staggered back with a high pitched sort of 'eep'. 

Another one staggered back from a telekinetic shove,and a nearly ear shattering scream erupted from one of the fuglies,or maybe all of them:it was so high pitched Logan couldn't help but collapse to his knees and cover his poor ears,which felt like they were going to explode inside his head and make his cranium collapse like a bad souffle.He was aware,somewhere beyond that pain inducing tide of noise,that glass was exploding like a bomb had gone off. 

The pressure in his head became almost unbearable-Logan was sure he was screaming even though he couldn't hear himself -and then it was like a dam burst:suddenly there was no more pressure,and the scream had stopped,filled in with a hollow, distant white noise. 

The things were still here,but retreating,leaving their twitching severed tentacles and an ocean of muddy,swampy smelling blood behind. 

Logan got to his feet unsteadily,feeling stickiness on his hands.He assumed it was some of their blood,but the blood slicking his palm was red,and he could feel warmth running down his neck,too viscous to be sweat.The noise had stopped because his eardrums had shattered like the windows and the skylight in the middle of the hallway ceiling:he was now deaf.He assumed he would recover from it like he recovered from everything,but he'd worry about it later. 

Ah shit-Jean. 

He looked down the hall,and saw she was now laying on the floor,writhing like she was trying to escape the noise,but how did you do that unconscious?She was seizing,and he could see the blood trickling out her ears from here. 

Sure their attack was done for now,he raced to her,retracting his claws,and said her name-well,he thought he said her name:he heard nothing now but that white noise,like a constantly in-rushing tide threatening to sweep him away-as he tried to hold her head steady.But she was convulsing quite violently,and he didn't know if it was due to the sound,an over-exertion of telekinesis,or both.He picked her up and held her as still as he could as he carried her to the elevator,noticing blood was gushing out her nose in a flood,staining her white blouse liquid red. 

He glanced out the elevator doors before they closed,and saw something that seemed like a nightmare. 

The fuglies were not retreating,they were shifting position.As he looked on,he saw new tentacles growing from the bloody stumps of the first one he had literally disarmed,muscular strands of sinew like giant tongues slowly but steadily poking there way through the ruined remains of their limbs. 

Holy fucking shit. 

He laid Jean down gently on the floor of the elevator,and as he left it,he reached around the door and hit the sensor that would take her to the underground portion of the school.Hopefully the Boy Scout would be standing by to take care of her. 

He stalked down the hall towards the fuglies again,popping his claws and trying to ignore the disorientation sudden deafness had thrown down on him.He didn't care if he had to hack them into bite size chunks:these fucks were so goddamn dead,no matter how long it took. 

The fuglies turned metal as he moved in,even though that didn't work the first time,and from a vibration that seemed to shimmer through the air and radiate through his claws,he guessed they were screaming again,using sound as an offensive weapon.But they couldn't make him deaf again-not yet-although the reek of their blood was nearly taking his legs out from under him,cutting him off at the knees.He thought you got accustomed to smells,no matter how awful they were (and he had become accustomed to a lot of them),but it wasn't happening here-it seemed to be ratcheting up in intensity,to the point where he thought it might actually make him sick.It was making his head start to hurt (unless that was the blood streaming from his ear canals,but he didn't think so:the worst had happened there already).If he didn't know better,he'd think they were somehow amping up the smell on purpose,as if they knew he had sharper senses than anyone else. 

Did they? 

Shit:maybe they did know.Maybe they knew they couldn't take him physically,so they were trying to get to him this way. Fuck,they were smarter than they looked. 

Trying to ignore the smell,trying to ignore the simple wrongness of hearing nothing at all,he slashed at them,at these monoliths of demons,noticing for the first time that these fuglies had legs as thick as tree trunks in their true form,and in some coldly calculating part of mind,the part that assessed the weakness of opponents and decided on the best ways to hurt (kill) them,he knew that was why they had to travel as human simulacrums:they couldn't move very fast in their true form. Also, quadruple tentacled,nine foot guys would stick out like sore thumbs,even in a tractor pull crowd. 

He slashed at tentacles coming towards him,and nascent ones still budding from the stumps,eyes watering from the stench of them (which was now threatening to take his vision) but they showed no sign of retreating.They probably could have their tentacles cut off all day:they just needed to wait for him to exhaust himself or slip up,make a fatal error. 

Too bad they weren't a little shorter-he could chop their heads off and be done with them. 

Hey,wait.If they didn't shrink,maybe it was time for him to get somewhat more vertical. 

Clearing his eyes with a swipe of his forearm,he ran to the side wall and quickly climbed up it,using his claws like climbing pitons in the thick wood walls,boots flat against the surface as he scrambled up towards the high ceiling,and as soon as he felt he reached the precise height he needed,he jumped off the wall and twisted in mid air as he sailed over the head of one of the demons. 

He slashed his claws down,and they sliced through something with a rubbery texture,thicker than the tentacles,something that he knew was bone as his claws passed completely through the ugly bulbous growth of its featureless head. 

He almost hit the floor on his feet on the other side of it,glad that Xavier liked high ceilings and wide hallways,when he caught the blur of a tentacle moving right towards him.He slashed down reflexively,but the instant before his claws made contact with the metal appendage of the demon,the tentacle touched his leg,wrapping around his thigh. 

The contact lasted only for a millisecond or two before his claws severed it,ripping it free from him and its owner,but the contact was bizarre and savage:he felt instantly like something was being sucked out of him,maybe his very will,as his vision instantly narrowed to a grey pinpoint,his conscious spiraling away like water down a drain. 

As soon as the tentacle fell away,his energy came back to him with an almost electric snap,and he managed to land on his feet although he stumbled back,and if it wasn't for the wall he would have landed flat on his ass.His vision was still compromised, he was still looking through a thin mist of grey fog,and he felt enervated,the sweat on his body cooling instantly and making him feel clammy. 

That was happened to Storm.Fucking hell,that was even creepier than what Rogue did. 

In spite of being exhausted,rage spurred him forward,and he slashed wildly at thick trunks of the demons,muddy blood splashing him,burning his eyes,but he didn't stop;hatred turned his vision red as he shredded these ugly fuckers. 

The one whose head he cleaved and abdomen he slashed open stood still for a moment,wavering slightly,before it began toppling over like a giant redwood in slow motion.He felt a tremble in the air,and he saw the others finally were retreating, moving back through the gaping hole in the outside wall,trailing bloody body parts behind them. 

He got out of the way as the leader fell over dead,making the whole mansion shake like there was an earthquake,and he knew he should follow them,but the anger had petered out,and now he thought he was about two minutes away from passing out. 

Son of a bitch-what had they taken from him? 

He headed down the hall towards the elevator,the smell following him,and when he looked down at himself he saw why:he was covered in their blood,his clothes sodden with it.It looked like he had been dragged through a freshly plowed field after a sudden squall.There were strips of flesh hangs off his claws,looking like gore streaked rubber,and he snapped his hands back hard,sending the remnants flying before he retracted his claws back into his hands.He didn't want to be contaminated by those things,even if that were possible:knowing his rabidly over-zealous immune system,that was unlikely to happen,but even so, the idea of their blood mingling with his made him queasy. 

Or maybe that was just the smell. 

At the elevator,he looked back,but the things were gone-well,four of them.The fifth lay dead in the corridor,looking like it had been killed with a cheese grater.Wow,how mad did he get? 

And would the Professor ever get the stink out of the hall? 

He punched the sensor that would take him down to the lower levels,and leaned against the wall,feeling the vibration of motion and missing the sound.Any sound.He assumed he would get better,that the hollow white noise in his ears would eventually give way to sound as his eardrums healed and knit themselves back together,but what if it never happened?What if he had finally found a body part that didn't heal from a mortal injury? 

Ah hell,he was too tired to worry about it now.Maybe later. 

Maybe when he ran out of things to worry about. 

When the elevator opened on the bright steel corridors of the lower levels,he had one moment of being blissfully alone,and then he saw Scott come out of the infirmary ahead,Jean's blood staining his blue shirt black.He said something-Logan was pretty sure his lips formed the word 'what',and maybe 'happened',but he had no hope catching the rest of whatever it was he said to him.Logan told him,"Eardrums burst.Can't hear." or at least thought he did-it was in his mind to say that-but whether he did,and at what volume (whispering,shouting,in a faux British accent) he had no idea,as he couldn't hear himself speak yet either.Just in case he actually said nothing,he gestured at his ears and shook his head,and hoped One Eye figured it out. 

He did.He canted his head to the side,sort of like a parakeet,and must have seen the blood trickling from one of Logan's ears,because Logan clearly saw his lips form the word,"Oh shit." 

Damn.The only time he loses his hearing,and Scott curses just like a real boy.That was a once in a lifetime thing too,he bet. 

Scott actually came up to him,saying something,and he got the idea he was trying to help him when he made a grab for his arm, but Logan yanked it away and sincerely hoped he said,"Fuck off,I'm fine."Of course he wasn't really,but he wasn't about to admit that to the Boy Scout.He didn't know if he said it,but just yanking his arm away seemed to send the 'don't touch me' message. 

He tried to ask,he hoped he asked,"How's Jean?"But even if he had said it,how could he hear the response? 

As soon as he was inside the infirmary,Scott cut ahead of him,and he saw him gesturing back towards him as he spoke to the Professor,but Logan paid no attention as he walked over to the table where Jean was now laid out,covered haphazardly with a dark blue blanket splotched with her blood. 

She looked deathly pale,but was no longer actively bleeding from her nose or ears,and she appeared to be breathing,which was always a good sign. 

He was so tired he knew he would have to sit down or collapse,so he took the less embarrassing option and sat down in the closest chair (at Jean's desk alcove,in fact),and propped his elbows on his knees,resting his head in his hands. 

"Logan,"he heard the Professor say,and he almost looked up,but he knew instantly that he was hearing his voice inside his head.Ears no good,fall back to telepathy:good old Professor."Are you all right?Otherwise." 

'Can you even hear me?'He wondered.It wasn't like he was a telepath. 

"I assure you I can." 

Shit.Wasn't that creepy?'One of them touched me for a second,but I'm okay,just a little tired.It was close,though.' 

"I realize how silly you think me asking if you need medical attention is,but you may need it this time,Logan." 

'I don't.How's Jean?' 

There was a brief pause-did he actually sense hesitation in that?-but he finally said/sent/whatever the hell it was called:"She should recover,but she was badly injured.I suspect you were too." 

'I'm just deaf.My eardrums will grow back.' 

"Not only that,Logan.You're very lucky to be alive." 

'I'm never lucky to be alive.'That thought was out of the gate before he could stifle it,so he quickly thought of something else.'I killed one,but the others took off.I want to say I scared them off for good,but somehow I doubt that.' 

"I doubt that as well."Another pause."You believe them to be inhuman?" 

'You'll think I'm fucking nuts-I think I'm fucking nuts-' 

"Demons?" 

Ah shit.'That's what the guys in L.A. called them-I just know they don't smell human.Beyond that,I don't know what they are.' 

"That's why I asked you to come back,Logan.Jean told me you referred to a man you met in L.A. named 'Maximum Bob'  as not being Human." 

He should have known that would come back to bite him on the ass.Did she have no secrets from Xavier?'He wasn't.I have no idea what he was.' 

"Do you think he could help us understand what these things are?" 

Logan sighed.He would have rather dealt with Angel,but he hadn't told them of his less than human status,and there was that sunlight issue.And frankly,as annoying as he was,Bob was probably right about one thing:the thing that could kick his ass had not been invented yet.The power coming off of him was intense and frightening,and doled out so easily it was like he was doing nothing at all as he took control of every mind in his vicinity.It was a shame he wasn't a mutant,because he could kick some major ass.'Yeah,probably.I don't know his number,though.' 

"He gave it to Jean." 

Of course he did.Shit,Bob was a nosy son of a bitch.'As soon as I can hear myself talk,I'll call him and see if he knows what these uglies are.But I think I need to lay down for a minute.'The tired feeling was not passing,and it actually seemed to be getting worse,weighing his head down like a chunk of granite. 

"I think that would be a good idea."Logan was surprised he agreed with him,but he had to have some idea how much he was flagging over here."Your room is still upstairs." 

Again,a surprise,but maybe he knew an offer of a medical bed would go down like a ton of bricks.'Thanks,'he thought,and as soon as he had the strength he levered himself up from the chair,and took one last glance at Jean and Storm,laid out on their respective beds;the somber Xavier,still looking remarkably glum and almost funereal;and a single accidental glance at the way over his head Scott,who was by Jean's bed,holding her hand with his one good one. 

All this to just kill one of those suckers.Son of a bitch:they did need Bob,ASAP. 

    4 

    The first thing Logan heard was music. 

It was A Perfect Circle:he knew that much having heard the song before,but he didn't know its title.But the angrily shouted "Fuck your god!" (a sentiment he sympathized with greatly) had a tendency to lodge in the mind.The song was raging in the background,a perfectly enraged sonic backdrop to what was in the club before him. 

Bodies.Lots and lots of bodies. 

The funny thing was,even though they were quite clearly dead,there appeared to be no marks on the bodies,almost no blood at all on the marbleized floor.Most were splayed out on what he assumed to be the dance floor,or at least the main floor of the club,but there were a few slumped in chairs,sprawled over tables or laying propped up against the bar.There were few colored lights:just steady crimson and vivid blue gel lights that made the place look half bloody and half bruised,the corpses reflecting the color disposition of whichever side they were on. 

"He did it all for you!"The singer howled from the speakers,as Logan crouched down to get a better look at the closest corpse.  
Did he know this place?It was familiar,but having hit a good portion of the seedy dives,nightclubs,and bars in greater North America,it was bound to seem familiar in some way or another. 

The corpse was a young woman,maybe seventeen,brunette,with a barbed wire tattoo encircling her left bicep,pretty.He was tempted to ask her how she died,aware on some level he was dreaming,but even so he bet she wouldn't tell him. 

Dream or not,this felt real.Real and familiar.Memory? 

No,that didn't make sense.He'd have remembered walking in on a massacre. 

(Unless the time frame is all wrong:unless your mind,playing tricks on you,has updated it.It wasn't A Perfect Circle on the sound system,you don't remember what it was-just something loud and angry,maybe punk.But at the time you paid no attention at all...) 

He woke up,not with his usual violent jolt,but a seriously bizarre question uppermost in his mind. 

Did his bloody little fight with the fuglies warp his mind a bit?Was it the ride through decimated Riverton?Or did he remember a similar massacre from his past? 

Ah shit,he didn't even have time to think about it now. 

A quick glance at his watch-he hadn't bothered to get undressed:he made it up to his room and just collapsed on the bed- showed he'd barely slept for two hours.But he felt a lot better:brief or not,it had recharged his batteries,as it were. 

But could he hear again or not? 

He stumbled blearily to the bathroom,and looked at himself in the mirror over the sink:what a mess he was.Demon blood like mud was dried on his face,splotchy on his cheeks and forehead,while dried runnels of his own blood streaked his neck like war paint,and he wasn't even going to spare a glance at the ruin of his clothes."Hey,asshole,"he said to his own reflection,and heard himself loud and clear.Yeah,he was fine. 

He shucked off his pathetic ruined clothes and took a quick,scalding shower,just to get the stink of the things off of him. Shit,those things needed body sized Odor Eaters. 

His clothes would have to be burned,of course,along with the bedsheets,because there was no way he'd ever get the stink out of them,not to his satisfaction.Sometimes having a sensitive nose was a bitch and a half. 

Wearing only his boxer shorts,which seemed to have escaped the bloodshed,he looked in his closet for the generic clothes that Xavier seemed to have around the mansion,figuring it would do until he could get something decent.But much to his shock,he found a small pile of jeans and plain,unmarked t-shirts all folded and stacked with a perverse,anal retentive sense of neatness.It was all the right size too. 

Since he had left nothing here the first/last time he was here-having nothing and therefore having nothing to lose wasn't just a saying:it was a way of life-he wondered if this was an example of precognition,anticipation,or hope that he would return.  
Of course,he promised Rogue he would return,if only to get his dogtags,and he meant that,but that didn't mean he intended to come back for good.He pulled on a pair of jeans and wondered why everyone wanted him to be a part of their little group.It wasn't like he was a 'team player'. 

No,correction:he knew exactly why Xavier wanted him.Maybe his 'X Men' had experience working as a unit,and they had the coolest toys on the playground,but did they have a true fighter among them?Scott liked to play General,but his actual down and dirty in the trenches fighting was virtually nil,and he couldn't fight worth a shit without his 'gift',which wasn't really in his control in the first place.Logan could fight without his claws,and often did;he was probably as close to a born fighter as you could get-whether he liked it or not-and Xavier knew that.That was the other reason the Professor called him back here and they both knew it. 

Logan pulled on a black t-shirt,wondering why Angel had wanted him to join his little rag tag group of misfits.Xavier needed him,but Angel didn't really:Angel didn't really need anybody's help.He was a good,solid fighter,and,according to him, technically dead-he only needed to worry about sunlight and pointy wood things,also according to him.Although avoiding sunlight in California sounded like a bit of chore,certainly the pointy wooden things wasn't,which left Logan to figure he gave him the offer to join up for one of two reasons:he felt bad for Logan (an infuriating notion),or Cordy made him ask (she was kind of pushy:she said frog and everybody seemed to hop).In a strange and obscure way,it was sort of nice to be wanted by people other than shady government guys with paralyzers,high tech torture chambers,and sinister agendas. 

He paused for a few minutes to trace the lingering stench of demons still filling his nostrils,and traced it to splotches of blood on his boots.He wasted a few minutes scrubbing off the spots as well as he could:the bloodstains came off easily,but long after it was gone the stench lingered,little atoms of irritation embedded in the leather.After a few minutes he gave it up,figuring he could live with the trace smell until he could get new boots. 

Next time he fought those goddamn things,he hoped he was wearing a HazMat suit. 

Finally,he pulled his boots on and went to the door,where he found a crisply folded piece of blue paper slid underneath it.He picked it up and opened it,and on it,in precise black pen,was a phone number with an L. A. area code,and two words written underneath :My office. 

Xavier must have been desperate,and after having fought the fuglies and barely staggering away with his life,he knew why. They honestly could use all the help they could get. 

Walking down the hall towards Xavier's office,he got an eerie feeling that crawled down his spine like an insect:despite the smells of many people passing through recently,it was as quiet as a tomb.Had Xavier evacuated the school?A good idea,until they took care of those bastards. 

Logan knew he was expected,so he didn't bother to knock,but Xavier wasn't waiting for him:his office was empty,the bright late morning  sun streaming in on an empty desk.He was probably down in the infirmary still,or maybe supervising Scott's attempts to crispy critter the corpse of the fugly in the back garden.Hell,considering the stench,Scott should probably just take out all of the atrium along with it. 

Feeling slightly foolish-he just knew he would regret calling Bob-he punched in the number on the rather old fashioned looking black telephone and sat on the edge of the desk with the receiver glued to his ear,trying hard not to tap his fingers anxiously on the desk.The way he was feeling right now,he might leave big ragged gashes in the walnut finish. 

There were three rings before the call was an answered,and a woman's voice snapped,almost bitterly,"Way Station." 

That was the name of the bar where Bob pretended to do business,although Logan suspected Bob was far too big a player for such a small and seedy place.He thought the woman might be Lia,the rather short tempered (and attractive) bartender he met the last time he was there,but it was sort of hard to tell with all the noise in the background. 

What?If it was eleven here it had to be eight in the morning there...was it legal for a bar to even be open?"I need to talk to Bob,"he said,figuring this was no time for small talk.But for a woman who smelled nothing like human,Lia had been pretty hot.  
A real shame she seemed to like him as much as dog shit on a shoe. 

"Hold on,"she said,but rather than put him on hold,it sounded like she threw the phone on the bar itself,a loud and unexpected noise that made him wince and curse simultaneously. 

Yep,that had been Lia all right-she must have recognized his voice. 

He could hear voices talking a language he couldn't even begin to recognize-it sounded far from human-and behind that he heard a singer drawl darkly,"An empty body but it still bled." 

Wow,Bob had a fun place,didn't he?He almost felt homesick. 

Finally,he heard a familiar Australian tinged voice say in a firm but low voice-perhaps that's was as close to mad as Bob got-say to someone,"You will go home and never come back.And the next time you have a homicidal urge,you will take it out on you."  
If you didn't know better,you might think Bob was telling someone off,but Logan knew better.He wasn't telling-he had just issued an order that would stick to the wall,whether the guy getting it liked it or not. 

Finally,he heard the receiver scooped up off the bar,and a remarkably chipper voice said,"Bobbus Maximus,at your service." 

There was nothing worse than a mind fucker who thought he was funny. 

"Bob,look-"he began,but Bob didn't let him finish. 

"Logan?Holy shit,mate!Is the world ending?"He interrupted,sounding only partially facetious. 

Logan huffed an impatient sigh through his nose,and willed himself not to lose his temper.Not yet:not until he could skewer the guy in person."You tell me,"Logan growled in reply. 

"It must be-you're calling me for help,"Bob said,and this time he sounded serious. 

"How do you know that?" 

"You wouldn't call me to shoot the shit,"he replied matter of factly.And Logan had to admit he had a point."Fuck,mate,you're calling from the Xavier School?" 

Logan almost asked how he knew that,then figured it out for himself:caller i.d.,the bane of obscene phone callers everywhere. "Yeah.Just listen,okay?A town near the school was wiped out by some kind of demon that nearly got the lot of us too." 

"Fucking Jesus crackers."Logan almost hit his ear to make sure he was still hearing properly.Had Bob really said 'Jesus crackers'?"What were they,do you know?And are they coming back?" 

"I don't know,but I doubt they're done with us.I can tell you they're fuckin' ugly,and they smell like the septic tank of an abattoir in Saudi Arabia." 

Bob was quiet for several seconds-a lifetime for him."You've just described seventy two percent of demonkind." 

Logan mentally reminded himself he had to kill him in person-throwing the phone across the room would only result in a broken phone."They start vaguely Human-ish,but seem to be some kind of huge shapeshifters with tentacles and a scream that could shatter eardrums for miles in all directions.That narrow it down?" 

"A bit.Could you hold on a minute?" 

"What?"Logan exclaimed,shocked."No,I cannot fucking-" 

But Bob had already put the phone down on the bar.But at least he had done it much more politely than Lia. 

Logan was about to rip the phone out of the wall and toss it through the goddamn wall-who puts someone on hold when they're asking for fucking help? (Besides an HMO,of course...)-when he felt a sudden shift in the air. 

There was a sense of displacement,and a strange smell,like ozone and...beer? 

He glanced behind him,which was technically towards the front of the office,just in time to see Bob appear out of thin air. 

"Okay,so they looked like what again?"He asked,picking up their conversation where they left off. 

Logan stared at him in open disbelief as he heard a woman say over the phone,"Is he there yet?Hey,is he or not?" 

"Yeah,he's here,"Logan told Lia numbly."How-" 

But he was answered by a dial tone,as she had already hung up.Well fuck you very much too,he thought as he dropped the reciever back on its cradle. 

"You got lucky,"Bob said,answering the question for him."Amaranth was at the bar and owes me a few favors." 

"Amaranth?" 

"A witch,a good one too.She teleported me here via spell.Pretty cool,huh?" 

Logan just stared at him,wondering if he was joking,and figuring he was not."So how do you get back?" 

"Oh,I have a miraculous homing device."He pulled a small black square out of the back pocket of his pants."It's called a cell phone." 

Logan's glare became murderous,but Bob only smiled as he put his phone away. 

Bob was looking remarkably awake and well put together for so early in the morning,but that was Bob:maybe he had some supernatural gift for always having it together.Today he was wearing crocodile patterened black leather pants,black leather biker boots complete with chrome accents that were probably way too expensive for any actual biker to afford,and a deep purple long sleeved shirt (silk?),open at the collar and showing off some chest hair,while the sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, revealing an expensive looking chrome watch on his left wrist and a chunky gold bracelet on his right.His brown hair was,of course,impeccable-he looked like a male model fresh from a photo shoot.Logan wondered if that could be a supernatural power-always looking decent. 

"So,can I see?"Bob asked. 

"See?" 

"In your mind.Pictures are better than clumsy explanations any day." 

"My explanation was not clumsy,"he snapped resentfully,but after a moment he shrugged in surrender.As long as he was going to fuck with his head-and he'd better not-what was the harm? 

Bob's strange nuclear blue eyes locked onto his,and for some reason he reached out and clapped him on the shoulder,like he was giving him a congratulatory slap on the arm.He felt something-it wasn't quite like anything,and yet he knew something had happened,even if he couldn't describe it-and then Bob's gem toned eyes widened as his hand dropped away from his shoulder."Holy shit,you do have a problem.Someone's sicced Legion on you." 

    5 

    "Legion demons?"Logan asked.It was a clumsy name,to say the least. 

"No,they're just called Legion,"Bob said,looking troubled."They're not really a race more than a...conglomerate." 

"Conglomerate?A business?" 

"No-think bees." 

He didn't know what the hell he was getting at,but after a moment,he thought he followed his drift."A group of demons?A hive mind?" 


	3. Part 3

"Something like that.They only travel as a unit,because they are one:think of them as a person whose right arm,liver,and pancreas all have minds and bodies of their own.But somebody forgot to pack the brain,or at least give the brain directions to the super-secret hideout." 

"They didn't seem very bright." 

"They literally have nothing like a pre-frontal cortex:there is no higher brain functioning." 

"So it's like fighting a brick wall all the way through." 

Bob nodded,running a hand nervously through his well coifed hair,barely ruffling it:it fell back into place like magic."Their lack of intelligence just adds to their native viciousness." 

After thinking about it for a minute,Logan said,"I don't suppose they're the infamous 'I am Legion',are they?And what do you mean someone sicced them on us?" 

Bob grimaced slightly,obviously weighing whether or not to share something with him or not,and ultimately decided to do so."Can I tell you a secret?Belial demons pretty much wrote what Humans call the Bible,and it's in jokes like that that prove my theory." 

"In jokes?" 

"Saying 'I am Legion' is like saying 'I am as dumb as a bag of hammers,and almost as pretty'.Not a threat more than a self-directed insult,although I admit that they're tough motherfuckers." 

"But so stupid someone has to do the thinking for them." 

"Right.They're terrific soldiers:they follow whatever order is given to them to an absolute t.They don't stop until their directive has been achieved,or they're dead.Basically they're attack dogs,only dumber." 

"So why don't I see them all over the place?" 

"'Cause it ain't that easy to call Legion up.I've had people come to me and ask for a squad of  Legion,but I've told them to fuck off.I mean,no one wants them for a good purpose,and that takes more time and energy than I'm willing to devote to anything that's no fun at all." 

"Call them up?"Logan decided he didn't want to know;it wasn't important."So who's pulling their strings and why?" 

"A good question.One you and I are going to have to figure out.But I think we'd better brief the others,huh?I might be here for a while." 

Now it was Logan's turn to grimace.At least Bob would have to explain himself and spare him the pain,but could Logan ever live it down? 

** 

    Bob had known it was bad the second he got a look at Logan. 

Of course,the fact that he had called in the first place meant things had progressed beyond Shitsville,but Bob hadn't expected it to be quite this bad. 

When was the last time he saw any Legion about?It had to be way back,before the turn of the century in Nepal,when that nutjob sorcerer thought he could become Emperer of the World or some such stupid notion,an idea that was not only idiotic to the core,but highly impractical.He sometimes thought he should have let that jackass (what was his name?Mauve,something like that?) take over for a bit-he'd have run off screaming in two days,tops.Some jobs just sounded better than they actually were. 

So now someone had brought Legion up for a bit of grazing-but that alone would not make sense.Nobody would be stupid enough to let the Legion off the leash without a purpose,not after all the trouble they must have gone through to raise them.The attack on the town,as far as Bob was concerned,was a trap.Draw the Mutant Wonder Squad out,and pick them off,leaving- 

Leaving the Professor all by himself. 

Ah-there was the key.Professor Xavier.But Bob kept that to himself as Logan led him down through the Professor's posh school and high tech,snazzy hideout in the bowels of the building.It was nice,although a bit sterile:Bob had learned to appreciate atmosphere.It helped you keep a sense of humor. 

But as soon as he entered the infirmary,he knew things were about to get worse. 

There was an unintelligible noise of pain as soon as Logan walked through the sliding metal door,and Bob heard a man-not Logan-exclaim,"Professor,what's wrong?" 

Bob stopped at the threshold and looked inside,mentally cursing himself."It's me.I'm sorry." 

Logan looked back at him,surprised."You?" 

"Who the hell is he?"He heard the man from before snap at Logan. 

"Bob."Another man-the Professor-groaned in pain."Am I right?" 

"Yes.Look,I'll phone you from the end of the hall,okay?" 

"What the hell is going on?"Logan asked him,giving him an impatient glare. 

"He's too strong a telepath to be around me,"Bob said,grimacing at his own forgetfulness.Xavier could probably regulate it but not turn it off;Bob couldn't turn off what he was at all,so that left them in a bind. 

"No,give me a moment,"Xavier replied,his voice fragile with pain,then said to the other man,"Scott,second cupboard on your right,third shelf." 

Logan scowled at him,his brows drawing down in confusion."Can't you just tell him 'I don't hurt you' or something?" 

"I could,and I bet I could lessen the pain a bit,but he's a stronger telepath than I thought,and I'm probably the psychic equivalent of a heavy metal concert in his cranium,with the amps cranked to eleven." 

"How did he-you get here so fast?I thought you were in Los Angeles."The mutant named Scott asked.Bob couldn't see him because he retreated completely away from the door,and could only see Logan,who remained inside the doorway,but just barely:he looked caught between worlds,an apt metaphor for Logan if there ever was one. 

"Would you believe I teleported?"Bob replied. 

There was a pause."You can teleport?" 

"No,but I know people who do." 

There was a long moment of silence,and Bob could imagine the disbelieving,dirty look he was getting from the man.He seemed to ooze anal retentiveness like an aura that always cleaned up after itself .Or something like that. 

Logan shook his head and rubbed his eyes,shoulders hunching over as if he suddenly felt all the weight of the world."This was a mistake.Shit." 

"Why would you say that,Logan?Just because your friend is apparently lethal to the Professor,"Scott carped,sounding extraordinarily bitter.He didn't like Logan,that was obvious,but there was more than that...jealousy?Why?Although those claws of his were pretty fucking cool,Bob wouldn't want Logan's life for the world.Any of them. 

"He's not my friend,"Logan snapped,and Bob had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.He knew he'd say that. 

"I asked Logan to bring him into this,"Xavier pointed out,in a surprisingly firm voice.Scott and Logan must have clashed a lot:he already sounded fed up with it. 

But he asked Logan to bring him in?Xavier again.He knew more about this than he'd let on to the others,didn't he?Wheels within wheels... 

"Okay,while I wait,why don't I tell you what the hell your up against,at least for now?"Bob offered,feeling a bit funny shouting into another room from the hall,but it was hardly the first time he had done such a thing.He told them about Legion, leaving out the bit about Belials writing the Bible as a big joke against humanity (well,Belials really loved taking the piss-it was just too easy most of the time). 

He heard Scott several times,making little "oh,you're shitting me" sort of noises,while Logan just scowled at the floor and shifted uncomfortably,generally just mortified,even though he himself didn't doubt that Bob knew what he was talking about. Logan had encountered too many inhuman things to be doubtful now-hell,he was Logan the Berserker Slayer,was he not? 

And he had no idea yet,but that was going to come in awfully handy soon. 

There was no comment at all from Xavier,and Bob didn't expect one.In fact,he knew now that Logan had not been the only one in this little group to have encountered inhumanity in his life. 

"This is such bullshit,"Scott said,as soon as Bob finished. 

"How exactly did they hurt Storm and Logan by touch?"The Professor asked,interrupting his impatient student. 

"They feed off the neural energy of intelligent beings.It doesn't take too long-one good squeeze and you're as empty as a beer bottle on Saint Patrick's Day.The fact that Storm is still alive is a testament to how strong you mutants are.The fact that Logan is still walking around and able to string words into coherent sentences convinces me he's fuckin' immortal." 

Logan gave him a dirty look for that-Logan appreciated the fact that immortality was not a gift,like many mortals seemed to believe,but a big fat ugly curse-and Xavier said suddenly,"Don't,Scott." 

Logan's head shot around towards them,eyes narrowing suspiciously,and Bob guessed Scott was about to make a disparaging remark,possibly about the amount of neural energy Logan actually had."Don't what?Got a joke you want to make,Clops?"Logan growled,sounding positively lethal.He must have guessed too. 

"They're not shapeshifters,are they?"Xavier went on,ignoring the bickering boys.Logan was jealous of Scott? 

Again,why?No,that was not hard to glean off Logan:Scott had a sedate life,torture free,and full of memories that were mostly pain free.He also had a girlfriend that was too good for a guy like him...oh... 

"Not as such,"Bob said,shaking himself out of that reverie."They have the two forms:Human disguise-or,as Human as they can possibly get-and normal.All they can really shift is the appearance and molecular density of their skin,which adjusts to its circumstances on an almost instantaneous,autonomic level.A weapon used against them once is no good the second time." 

"Except my claws,"Logan interjected. 

Bob nodded."They can't do adamantium-do you know its molecular density?Too rich for their blood.They could probably mimic a layer,but what good is a few microns against your claws?Forget it.They also can't mimic mercury or plutonium,but what good is that exactly?" 

"And you know this how?"Scott asked,the disbelief still evident in his voice. 

"I've encountered them before." 

"What about little green men?"He continued sarcastically. 

"Scott,"Xavier said sternly,sounding a bit better than before.What kind of medication had he given himself?A painkiller of some sort. 

"All the green men I've encountered have been normal sized,"Bob replied,grinning to himself.Ah,Humans-they could be so funny sometimes. 

Before he could say something else,there was a frantic wavering electronic beep,and Scott cursed low under his breath as Logan stiffened and headed into the room."What's wrong?"Logan asked,as Bob crept up to the door.If the Professor was sufficiently medicated,he should be able to come in now,if only for a little while. 

"I don't know,"Scott replied,sounding frustrated."Jean,can you hear me?" 

Logan left,going deeper into the room,and Bob glanced inside the doorway.He caught the eye of Xavier,who seemed to be grimacing from the pain,but had enough drugs in his system that he could look at him without his head exploding.He looked like an almost regal man,perfectly bald with clear,strong blue-grey eyes,confined to a wheelchair that he managed to make look like a throne by personality alone.He threw off an aura of absolute authority that was hard not to be deferential to by simple reflex.He gave Bob a small,dignified nod,which Bob returned,wondering when he'd get a chance to talk to him alone,if ever. Xavier was hiding something,he just knew it. 

He saw two hospital beds in the room:in the nearest was a pretty dark skinned woman with curiously white hair,who looked as wrung out as you could imagine:Storm,he bet.Being grabbed by Legion-how fucking awful.She was lucky to have survived,and the fact that she had meant she'd recover eventually.  
The next hospital bed,where Logan stood beyond the end looking both guilt ridden and angry as the mutant called Scott-a rather blandly good looking man wearing a dark amber colored pair of sunglasses that looked like a distant cousin of that visor worn by Levar Burton's character in "Star Trek:The Next Generation"-was torn between looking at the machines and the woman in the bed. 

This woman was bloodlessly pale,with reddish brown hair and a handsome if slightly patrician face."Jean,can you hear me?" Scott asked,holding her hand between his. 

"She probably can't,"Logan pointed out ruefully."She wasn't far enough away not to be deafened." 

Bob entered the room casually,trying to keep as far from Xavier as possible."What happened here?Can I help?"He wondered. 

Logan looked at him intently,sizing him up anew."Yeah,I think you can." 

Scott looked up sharply,scowling first at Logan then at him.It was hard to tell with his eyes hidden,but Bob was reasonably certain he had done a double take upon seeing him,as if he had been expecting someone who looked more inhuman...or perhaps someone who looked like he might hang out with Logan."Oh,he's a doctor too,is he?"Scott said,scowling back at Logan. 

"He's a hell of a lot better than that,"Logan drawled back,not taking Scott very seriously at all.That annoyed him,and Logan both knew and enjoyed that. 

"Was she touched by Legion?"He asked,aiming the question at Logan.Scott hated him,probably because of his association with Logan.Wow-if he could see his eyes,he bet they'd be nuclear green.Meow. 

If she had been touched by Legion,he wasn't much use to her right now.He needed to access the conscious or subconscious mind at some point,and it was safe to say Legion generally robbed power from the higher functions first.He'd have to wait until enough of her higher consciousness crawled back before he could be of any use at all. 

"No.I think they blew out her eardrums along with mine,but something else happened.She had a telekinetic meltdown of some sort." 

"She's telekinetic?"Well,wasn't that bloody impressive?"Telepathic too?" 

"Yeah.Is that a problem?"Logan was trying hard not to show how eager he was for Bob to help her,but he was.Was this the woman?She hardly seemed like The Face Launched A Thousand Ships,but he was not seeing her at her best.Besides,how shallow was that?To just assume she was some jaw dropping uber-beauty;Helen wasn't exactly,if he remembered the stories correctly. 

Bob glanced at the Professor,who remained stone faced,but Bob could tell by the way sweat was beading on his wide alabaster brow,and how he was gripping the arms of his chair like he might shatter them,that he was still in a great deal of pain.Bob really had to speed this up."How telepathic?Like you?" 

He shook his head very carefully,as if it was a fractured china orb he was afraid might fly apart if he moved it too suddenly. "She's not that powerful.Yet." 

Ah,potential.She was the golden girl here,was she?Hopefully not so golden that he would inadvertently hurt her while trying to help her."Then I think I can help." 

"She's unconscious and possibly deaf-does that matter?"Logan wondered. 

Bob shook his head."Remember Death Valley?I don't need to look them in the eye,and they don't need to hear me with their ears:I only need to know my target." 

"Death Valley?"Scott repeated,looking more dubious by the syllable."And what do you mean by target?" 

"Just an expression,mate,"he said,looking at Jean's slack,unconscious face.He probably ought to stay where he is,as getting too close before he could judge how strong a telepath she was might result in an inadvertent burn out. 

Bob closed his eyes,and vaguely heard Scott say defensively,"Expression or not,I'm not having you-" 

But,focused on his own inner eye,Scott was soon gone from the world,along with everything else. 

And he found himself in a garden. 

It was a nice,sunny day,the sky a crystalline cerulean,the birds chirping and almost covering a constant electrical humming in the background,a thrum you couldn't quite feel through the bright green grass,but almost. 

The breeze was warm,redolent of roses and power,and he found her sitting in a chair in a small thicket of well trimmed but overgrown weigalia bushes,some of which were as tall as him. 

She was sitting in the sun,a cold glass of ice tea  sweating on a small glass table beside her,and while she had a book in her hands,she seemed to be glancing between it and the gardener across the yard,diligently weeding a flower bed beside the house.He was shirtless and barefoot,clad only in short denim cut offs,sweat drenched back turned towards them as he crouched beside the bed and worked,but something about him looked familiar to Bob,even if he couldn't place him at the moment.That couldn't be her boyfriend,could it?He'd swear Scott didn't look that broad shouldered. 

She looked at him,her brown eyes curious but not startled."Who are you?"She asked. 

"A friend,"he said,deciding that was good enough."Sorry to intrude,but I just wanted you to know you're fine." 

Her brows drew down in confusion,and when her hair moved just so over her pale shoulders,Bob thought he could see what Scott and Logan might have seen in her.She was quite lovely;he envied her cheekbones."I didn't know I wasn't." 

They were tucked in a small corner of her subconscious,where she had probably embraced a certain level of denial as a safety measure.He really wasn't surprised she didn't remember,and it made things easier really. 

"Well,trust me:you couldn't be better.And your hearing is astounding." 

She looked up at him with some kindness,but it was clear she thought he was nuts."Thank you." 

The power running through the land(mind)scape was astounding:she did have a lot of potential.He felt like he was standing in the center of a thunderhead,just as the lightning to be was gathering strength from the air around it.And just beyond this ultra-controlled spot,he could see the edges of the sky bleeding at the horizon,swirls of black and red fire,the true power she could unleash if she let herself go and gave in to chaos.He was impressed. 

"You won't remember this specifically,but you will remember everything else.That okay with you?" 

She continued to gaze up at him curiously,although a hint of a smile graced her lips."You are the strangest man I have ever met." 

"I get worse."He assured her with a roguish grin."But I'm sure we'll get on famously." 

He turned to leave,and caught another glimpse of the hard working gardener.He knew what he symbolized,but he was still curious who it was.Still,none of his business. 

But just before he stepped through the fragrant hedgerow of magenta flowers,he caught the gardener's profile in the corner of his eye,sweat dripping off the end of his almost regal nose,and...oh shit,no wonder he looked familiar. 

No wonder Scott was so jealous. 

Bob stepped back,and shut his inner eye. 

"-near her,"Scott finished,as Bob opened his eyes. 

That's when he was distracted by the strange noises the machines were making. 

Logan gave him a sidelong glance."Nice job." 

"Live to serve,"Bob replied,unable to stifle the small laugh at seeing Logan the gardener again,if only in his mind, superimposed over the real one.Well,if Logan had a lust thing for her,at least it was mutual. 

Logan gave him an odd look,probably wondering what he was laughing at,as Scott gasped."What the hell happened?I think she's waking up." 

"Remarkable,"Xavier said,quietly impressed."What are you?" 

Bob smirked at him,wondering how much he already knew,and what would be acceptable to their particular world view.But it was clear the Professor couldn't take much more of him,at least for now."As soon as you're ready to hear it,I'll let you know." 

Bob left them to it,at least for now.A place this big had to have a kitchen,and Ganesha knew he needed a drink.If only to keep from laughing. 

    6 

    Logan traced Bob by smell to the front room of the mansion,where he was lounging on the leather sofa,eating reheated pizza and drinking a soda while watching what appeared to be a Spanish soap opera on the television,but with the volume off. Well,there was something to be said for small mercies. 

"She okay?"Bob asked,not even looking towards him as he came in the room. 

"Yeah,although she can't believe it.She vaguely remembers her eardrums bursting,although they're fine now."He came around the couch and joined him,sitting on the end of the sofa,his stomach tying itself in small knots from the smell. 

Bob held the huge plate full of pizza towards him."Have some.I can hear your stomach growling from here." 

Logan grimaced,but took a slice and gulped it down in three bites.Man,he was starving:it had to be ten hours since he last ate at the very least."Why are you watching this?"Logan asked,taking another slice.Bob had put the plate down between on the couch. 

"The nude talk show doesn't come on until eleven o'clock." 

Logan raised an eyebrow at him,but Bob kept on eating his pizza,intently watching a woman with way too much make up on over-emote on the screen."I miss a lot not having cable,don't I?"He said dryly. 

"Yeah."Bob then chuckled faintly."Humans-gotta love them." 

After a moment of eating in companionable silence,during which Logan tried to figure out what the narrative was on screen (no clue-honestly,he couldn't even guess),Bob asked,"They ready for me?" 

"As they'll ever be.Although Scott continues to be a total dick.Which is normal for him." 

"He thinks I'm a friend of yours.He's bound to hate me." 

"What an ass."He would never get Scott,but he didn't want to,so he was cool with that. 

"You can't blame him though,Logan.You're got a hell of a lot more fighting experience,so he feels his leadership of the group is threatened-" 

"He can have his damn group,"he interrupted impatiently."I don't want it." 

"-and he's afraid of losing his girlfriend to you." 

"He oughta be." 

"Yes,he oughta be,"Bob agreed,with a surprisingly somber tone.Logan gave him a curious look-what was that supposed to mean?-but he instantly changed the subject."How much do you know about Xavier?" 

Logan wanted to ask him what he meant about him and Jean,but decided it wasn't important."Not a hell of a lot.He's a telepath, he has buttloads of money,but he seems to be a general humanitarian...er,mutantarian?...at heart.Why?" 

Bob shrugged,taking a final swig of his soda."Just curious.How did he make his money?The usual telepathic way?" 

"What's the usual telepathic way?" 

"Going to Vegas or Atlantic City,reading people's minds at the card tables,breaking the bank." 

Logan considered that for a moment."He doesn't seem like the Vegas type to me." 

"Me neither,but maybe when he was younger.Even I did that once or twice,and I'm not a telepath." 

"You could just take people's money and leave,and they'd never know they'd been screwed-why play cards at all?" 

"It killed the time,"he admitted,shutting off the television."But it got kind of boring.Where was the challenge?" 

Logan probably should have felt some sympathy,but since the guy could do goddamn everything,it was kind of hard."Maybe you should have tried bare knuckle boxing." 

Bob snorted in amusement."Nah,don't think so,mate.I'll leave that to the professionals."He got up then,and bowed in a very exaggerated way towards Logan. 

Logan scowled at him,but wasn't too offended:after all,if it wasn't for his powers,Logan knew he could kick his ass.It was what he did best,after all. 

** 

    Logan led Bob to the Professor's plush,large upstairs office,where the others were waiting for them-save for Storm,of course,who was still too far gone from the touch of Legion for Bob to help her just yet. 

The Professor had parked himself in the farthest corner of the room,for obvious reasons,but still looked a bit pasty and far from well.Scott,still looking pointlessly belligerant,sat on the black leather couch in the center of the room,next to Jean,who had changed into a plain black dress and looked absolutely fine,a stark contrast to the way she had been even before Legion attacked the mansion.Bob was incredible. 

Logan was beginning to wonder if  one person's 'demon' was indeed another person's 'god'.It was looking like a thinner line all the time. 

Bob walked to the farthest point of the room from the Professor,aware despite precautions he was still inadvertently hurting him,but still able to face them all.Logan just leaned against the wall by the door and crossed his arms over his chest,more comfortable standing up. 

"So you're Bob,"Jean said,giving him a curious smile.She sounded surprised,making him wonder what she had expected. 

"Indeed I am,Doctor,and it's good to see you so well,"Bob replied,with a slight bow of his head and bright,charming smile."I take it you've been briefed on Legion?" 

"Yes I have.What are they after?" 

"Ah,the heart of the matter,"Bob continued smoothly,like a salesman working up to his pitch."The short answer is you.All of you." 

"And you know that how?"Scott wondered,sounding completely paranoid. 

Bob gave him a small,dry smirk,clasping his hands in front him to give them something to do-or maybe keep them from balling into fists."Nature of the beast.They don't show up on their own,and they can only follow orders." 

"It's not like we have a shortage of enemies,"Xavier allowed. 

"Enemies who hire big ugly..."Scott seemed to scramble for a word,and settled on an ironic one."...freaks to kill us?" 

"Freaks are generally big and ugly,"Logan commented,unable to stop himself.Why should he?"And I could have sworn that's all we've fought." 

"You believe they're coming back,"Xavier continued,ignoring them both and addressing Bob alone. 

Bob nodded."I'd bet you a million bucks cash.And they weren't hired,Scott-Legion has no use for money.Remember,they're as intelligent as footstools,but not nearly as useful." 

"Legion's good at killing things,"Logan pointed out. 

"There's that.Their one talent." 

"So how do we find out who is behind them?I assume questioning is impossible."Xavier said. 

Bob nodded,looking unusually serious for him,a few lines suddenly appearing in the corners of his eerie blue eyes.But even they didn't make his preternaturally handsome face look any older,just more serious and intense."It is:a bag of doorknobs has no story to tell.So when they return,Logan and I will have to follow them back to the lair of their leader." 

"You and Logan?"Scott repeated dubiously."Wait a minute-" 

"Scott,"Jean whispered in warning,putting a restraining hand gently on his slinged arm.But that wasn't enough to stop the Boy Wonder. 

"Why the hell should we trust you?You're just some supposedly non-human guy from L.A. who just happened to show up at the mansion in record time,and is supposedly a friend of Logan's,a man who has no friends." 

"Scott,"Jean hissed,louder this time,angrier. 

Xavier looked like he was going to say something,but Bob actually regarded Scott with some sympathy."After everything he's done for you people,you still don't trust him?" 

Silence seemed to actually fall like a physical presence,something weighted and oppressive that seemed to momentarily suck the air out of the room.Logan didn't know why that stunned him-very little actually stunned him."You don't trust me?"He spat, feeling a sudden flush of anger like a heat rising up the back of his neck from the base of his spinal column.Of all the things he hated Scott for,that was the newest one. 

Scott had at least a sliver of human decency,enough to seem somewhat embarrassed."It's not-"he began,and again seemed at a loss for words."I don't-shit,Logan,you came out of nowhere,like a hurricane,and we don't really know anything about you. How can I trust you?" 

"I trust him,"Xavier said."Isn't that good enough?" 

Well,that seemed to mortify Scott.Good. 

Sunlight streamed in through the bay window,the gauzy white curtains bracketing either side like still ghosts,illuminating the soothing room of dark wood and deep blue carpeting,but the light seemed strangely cold.Maybe it was just the basic atmosphere of the room coloring his perceptions. 

"Legion can camouflage itself quite well,"Bob continued,possibly trying to spare Scott more embarrassment.Why?"And while I can sense them,I really don't want to find out how well in field conditions and fall short.Logan can trace them by smell, which is something no one else in this room can do.And,if worse comes to worse,he can kill them,and I can try." 

"Try?"Scott replied,scrambling to get some prestige back."What exactly is it that you do?" 

Bob hesitated,grimacing in thought."Well,it's difficult to explain.Humans really don't have a word for it.I suppose mesmerism is close,but only in the way the sun is close to the Earth." 

"Are you saying you hypnotize people?"Scott asked in disbelief. 

"No-hypnotism requires you to believe in it in order for it to work.No one actually needs to believe in me.To quote Philip K. Dick-acid head paranoiac but otherwise capital guy-reality is that which when you stop believing in it doesn't go away.And I ain't going anywhere." 

Scott shook his head."This is unbelievable." 

Jean wakes up not only not deaf but better than she was before,and he preferred to think it was some kind of miracle as opposed to something Bob did?What a fucking moron. 

Bob stared at Scott,and said,"You've always wanted to see your eyes,haven't you?You can.Take off your visor." 

"What?"Jean asked,sounding startled. 

Scott's back stiffened,but he said nothing.But he couldn't say anything,could he?Bob had him."It's okay.it's perfectly safe.No one will be hurt." 

"No,Scott,"Jean said,sounding slightly panicky,grabbing at his arm as he stood up."Don't-" 

"Jean,it's okay,"Bob told her,in his most soothing voice."Trust me." 

Logan glanced at the Professor,and saw him watching intently,more morbidly curious than anything else. 

Scott,now standing in the direct center of the room,took his visor off. 

Jean tensed,ready for the worst,but absolutely nothing happened:no beams shot out,Bob's side of the room did not suddenly vaporize,everything remained as it was. 

Scott walked over to a small mirror hanging on the near wall,looking zombie like in his general stupefaction.Jean gasped when she saw his profile. 

There was no red energy oozing out of his eyes.There was just a run of the mill,ordinary pair of blue eyes-not Bob blue,just everyday blue-and the look on Scott's face as he gaped at his own reflection was almost comical in its abject shock.Logan could have laughed,and almost did,except he suddenly noticed the pungent smell of fear in the room,sharp and acrid.It looked like Scott was starting to hyperventilate. 

"What-what have you done to me?"He demanded,wheeling on Bob,shock giving way quickly to horror. 

It was Bob's turn to look surprised:he hadn't expected him to react that way."Put your visor back on,Scott."Scott did,and Bob said,"You're fine;everything's back to normal." 

Scott felt his face as if to confirm that,and,satisfied,sat back down,getting his breathing under control once more.He propped his elbows on his knees and let his head fall into his hands,his posture one of dejection.Jean rubbed his back in a comforting gesture,moving closer to him as if ready to protect him from Bob somehow. 

"My god,"the Professor gasped in total awe."You reinforce belief to the point where it alters the very fabric of reality." 

Bob gave him the kind of smile a teacher might give a student who finally got something through his thick head."That is really damn close,yeah,although it's a bit more complicated than that.Still,kudos." 

"You can't do your thing to Legion?"Logan asked,getting back to the topic at hand. 

"Well,only to a certain degree.As I said,no higher brain.They pretty much just have the stem.But if they grab me I'll blow their mind." 

"How?" 

"I mean literally blow their mind,Logan,out their ears.Like a potato in a microwave.My neural energy isn't their usual diet,and just a bit too intense for them." 

"Thanks for the visual."Jean muttered sarcastically.She seemed to have adapted to this situation better than Scott,though,which was no shock."So what then?Assuming you track down the person behind this." 


	4. Part 4

"Then they talk to me." 

"You think it's that easy?"Scott mumbled.He still had his head down,and sounded completely beaten. 

A slow,easy smile crept over Bob's face,and if Logan didn't know better,he'd have said there was a slightly sinister edge to it. "Oh yes,my dear boy.Everybody talks to me."           

7 

    As it turned out,they didn't have to wait long. 

Bob sensed them coming just before they reached the outer perimeter of the grounds,and then the wind shifted and he could smell them;god,did they reek.And the strangest thing of all was Bob claimed no one else could smell them. 

How could anyone not notice that stench? 

Bob,of course,wanted to go first.He walked out into the back garden,intending to cut them off at the pass,as it were. 

The impossibly high (twenty feet if it was an inch) redwood fence that surrounded the back of the estate had a fourteen foot wide section of it collapsed from the last time the fuglies attacked,and proving just how dumb Legion were,they came in that way-the path of least resistance,yes,but you never attacked the same site twice from the same location.You were just asking to get killed. 

Bob casually walked over the bright green expanse of lawn to meet them,direct sunlight bringing out strands of molten gold in his otherwise brown hair,and you'd think he was meeting them for a tea party he was so nonchalant about the whole thing. But then Bob seemed to have a terminal case of sangfroid. 

The four fuglies-a rather small Legion-came towards the mansion still in their human form,but as soon as someone noticed Bob,they instantly morphed into their bigger,uglier forms. 

Logan stood just outside the back of the mansion,claws sprung,waiting to assist Bob if he needed it,but he seriously doubted he'd need it.Demons were his thing,after all.And he was...well,Angel's description of Bob as a one man army was not accurate: Bob didn't leave a lot of carnage in his wake.All he left was a whole bunch of confused people who never remembered meeting him in the first place.Actually,a nice talent if you could hack it-if they don't even know you exist,how in the hell can they find you? 

He had no idea what Bob's plan was,but he was still a bit surprised to watch Bob,standing stock still in the path of those ugly mothers,begin moving almost imperceptibly.It looked like he was just shifting weight from the ball of one foot to another subtly,a movement so tiny it was hard to say it was actually occurring.But then his sway became more pronounced,almost rhythmic.As Logan crept closer,he heard Bob singing faintly under his breath,a tune he did not recognize:"This is what you get.This is what you get when you mess with us." 

And then he noticed Legion had not only stopped moving forward,but they were swaying along with Bob. 

The fuglies were copying his movements as best they could on their trunk like legs and awkward bodies,and it made him think of birds hypnotized by cobras before they struck their fatal bite. 

He wanted to ask him what he was doing,but he was afraid to say anything,even breathe,and shatter the delicate spell being woven here.If that's what it was:it almost felt like something tangible,some kind of energy net he could feel prickling on his skin. 

Bob fell silent and stood still,and Legion followed suit,standing so inert they could have been the world's ugliest lawn statuary. 

After a moment when the silence seemed absolute-only now did Logan realize the strange thing he heard was in fact an absence of bird song or road noise-Bob seemed to shatter it by saying in a low but conversational voice that seemed loud in the silence,"They're dead.Return to your master." 

For what seemed like an eternal moment,nothing happened,and Logan wondered if he should move in and start slicing and dicing.But then the Legion started to move with aching slowness,turning back towards the fence,reverting to their pseudo-human forms once more. 

"And now..?"Logan wondered,whispering in case it somehow made a difference. 

"We follow,"Bob said.He knew it really wasn't a question more than an impatient statement. 

Bob then glanced around,at the well tended gardens beyond the swath of neatly trimmed lawn,and suddenly asked,"You don't garden by any chance,do you?" 

Was that a joke?Logan glared at him like he'd suddenly become as dumb as Legion."What?" 

Bob shook his head,and made a vague gesture with his hand."Nothing.Come on,we don't want them to get too far ahead- they're faster in their humanoid form." 

Logan had no problem following that suggestion,but he couldn't help but ask,"What the hell does gardening have to do with anything?" 

Bob didn't answer,but he didn't really expect him to.To call Bob strange was the equivalent of calling the sun 'kind of warm'-it didn't even begin to describe the thing.But Bob waited to follow him,ceding to Logan's expertise in the matter of tracking,and Logan headed out after Legion,with the desperately odd man right behind him. 

** 

    They did camouflage at some point,but since they were upwind of him Logan had no trouble keeping on their trail.The fact that they chose to move through what passed for the countryside of this segment of New York made it doubly easier:in spite of the mottled skin and slightly less bulky humanoid forms,they made a lot of noise going through the shrubs and foliage, breaking branches,shaking leaves from the trees,accidentally uprooting plants with their clumsy and apparently blind footing. Stealth was not their strong suit. 

He briefly wondered if Bob's gardening comment was somehow related to this,but no,that didn't make sense. 

They must have followed them for two miles (and never once did the buggers look back-dumb,dumb,dumb),which was no problem for Logan:he suspected he'd had worse.In fact,even if he was suspended upside down over an erupting volcano, trussed up in adamantium wire,being slowly lowered into a lava flow while flesh eating ants made a snack of his skin,it would still be a safe assumption he had had worse at some point in his life. 

God,that sucked. 

He thought Bob might have some trouble keeping up,or at least complain about the distance,but no,not at all.Bob remained as cool as always,and quiet too,which made him an ideal companion.In most cases,the guy just wouldn't shut up. 

When he allowed himself to think about it,he wondered how things were at the mansion.Bob's little demonstration had left everyone a bit too stunned to do much except go along with whatever he said-except for Xavier,who was clearly vying for second place in the cool customer rankings-but now that he was gone and they'd had time to really digest what had occurred, he figured they'd treat Bob different once they got back.Whether it would respectful different or pitchforks and torches different was up for grabs.But Bob had healed Scott's arm on the way out to meet Legion;you'd think that would win him some extra brownie points. 

It suddenly occurred to him Bob could probably give Xavier use of his legs back-if anyone could,it was Bob.But would Xavier accept it,if Bob offered?Somehow he didn't think so,and he had a feeling that's why Bob never offered.He always seemed to be a page ahead of everyone else:yet another annoying Bob quality. 

Legion seemed to disappear from view just before a rather large ranch style house set on a parcel of land that appeared to contain a small farm.Logan could still smell them,but there was no sign of them or their recent passage:even the split rail wooden fence of the property was completely intact,as if the elephantine Legion had never been here at all.What the hell? 

And as he approached the fence,he felt something odd. 

It was indefinable odd:just a feeling that raised the hair on his arms and the back of his neck,a sort of minute vibration in the air that had no source or purpose."Logan,stop,"Bob said,finally breaking the silence. 

"You feel that?"He asked. 

"Yes-a glamour.But not a big one." 

"A what?" 

"A small spell.In this case,I'm guessing a protective one that surrounds the property like a burglar alarm."Bob came up to stand beside him,looking at the same perfect nothingness Logan was looking at. 

"A spell again,"Logan sighed.It was bad enough he had to accept demons,vampires,and werewolves-did he really have to accept spells now? 

Bob lifted his hand up and slowly took a few steps towards the fence.Before Logan could ask him what he was doing,the air seemed to shimmer before his upraised hand,tiny tendrils of blue energy snaking towards him from thin air.If they bothered Bob,he didn't seem to show it.He ran his hand back and forth through the air in front of him,as if he was stroking the hide of some invisible animal.Then he began to speak. 

Or maybe just speak in tongues-Logan had no goddamn idea what language he was attempting to speak.It sounded like gibberish,random syllables strung together.Maybe it was Esperanto. 

He thought,for a moment,that the air actually became visible:a wall of particles and the spaces between them like a gauzy veil between them and the rest of the world.And then,in a blink,it was gone.So was that strange feeling that made his hair stand on end. 

"We can pass now,"Bob said,walking forward. 

Logan followed,wondering how he could be surprised by anything Bob did.After all,he didn't smell inhuman more than he simply smelled like power:if electricity had a smell beyond ozone,that was what Bob smelled like. 

"What did you do?"Logan asked,even though he knew he'd regret the answer. 

"I threw a breaking spell at it.It was pretty weak,as glamours go.Since it's no breeze summoning Legion,I assume the person who erected that wimpy thing around this property is arrogant:stupid dumb up his or her own ass." 

"I know the type,"Logan said,before adding,"You do spells now?Is there something you want to tell me?" 

"You live as long as I do,you pick up a few things,"he said,with an air that suggested he didn't think it was that big a deal at all. 

He was so glad no one else came with them. 

It was no problem getting over the fence,and they met no resistance-not even guard dogs-as they walked across the herb field towards a rustic red barn.It was highly unlikely Legion would have been let in the house,and besides,why did they have a barn when Logan knew damn well they didn't have any animals?Well,unless you counted Legion. 

Bob was muttering under his breath,and what he feared was another 'spell' just turned out to be another song."Fearlessly the idiot faced the crowd,"Bob sang quietly."Smiling." 

Idiot was probably a kind term for the fuckhead who lived in this place,but hey,if Bob wanted to be diplomatic,that was his choice. 

Logan let Bob lead the way into the Legion stinking barn,figuring it was his turn to do his thing if need be,but Logan was ready to pop his claws on a nanosecond's notice (wasn't he always?). 

The wide doors were open,and as they neared he smelled something beneath the noisome reek of the demons:blood and sulphur,and...chamomile?Now there was a weird combination. 

The barn was dark but remarkably empty,the only light coming from the open doors and a single open window up in what might be referred to as the 'hayloft' (although it held nothing but the source of that chamomile/sulphur stink),and as they entered the remaining members of Legion were in front of them,facing away. 

"...done?"A man's voice asked."They're all dead?" 

"Well,not quite,"Bob said,sounding amused. 

Legion turned their big,ugly humanoid heads,and a man behind them shouted,"Kill them." 

"Berserkers,"Bob said back."Hungry Berserkers." 

Legion,as one,made a noise like an air raid siren,their impossibly wide mouths gaping open like tunnels,and they scrambled with surprising swiftness towards the back of the barn,where they proceeded to cower and whimper like beaten puppies. 

"What the hell-"Logan began,but Bob had anticipated the question (of course). 

"The only natural predator of Legion is Berserkers,"he explained casually."Not only is their neural energy thoroughly unappetizing,but Berserkers have a tendency to eat Legion.Legion used to be their dietary staple before they learned to expand their tastes." 

Remembering Berserkers-another big ugly species,but somewhat bright,all shark mouthed H.R. Giger rejects-he could see how they could eat Legion,and how they might indeed be terrified.Of course,he found them as scary as your average stuffed animal, but he'd killed one before without a lot of bother. 

He could see the man now,over Bob's shoulder.He was staring at them in slack jawed shock,a middle aged man with a slight thickness around the middle that no black robe could hope to conceal,his thinning grey shot black hair shaved into a savage window's peak in some misguided attempt to look sinister.He just looked silly. 

He raised his hands like a stage magician,and began speaking haughtily in Latin. 

"You have no power,"Bob interrupted. 

The porcine faced man finished his incantation with a flourish of his hands towards them...and then looked dumbstruck again. He repeated the final Latin phrase,and shook his hands at them,as if trying to give his traitorous limbs a jump start.But again nothing happened,and he looked almost distraught. 

"Now that you're through with this nonsense,"Bob said coolly-could he say things in any other way?"Tell us who you are,and why you wanted to kill Xavier's people." 

The man's small grey eyes took on a somnambulistic glazed quality,and Logan knew Bob had gotten himself another person. Although Marcus was right-it was endlessly creepy-it was kind of cool,as long as you weren't on the wrong end of it. 

"I am Milo Steen,and I was paid to,"the man said,his voice betraying a thick New Jersey accent that it hadn't heard before.Maybe because his other voice was an affectation. 

"Paid to?By whom?"Bob asked.Logan let him ask the questions,because he knew the afflicted only seemed to hear Bob. 

"We never exchanged true names.I knew the contact only as Mr. Black." 

"So you're a rogue?" 

"It pays the bills,"Steen replied. 

"Rogue?"Logan wondered. 

"Rogue wizard.They sell their services to the highest bidder."Bob shook his head,frowning in disgust.Obviously he didn't approve."Where did you meet this Mister Black?" 

"Once in a club called Pussy Galore's,then we simply transacted over the phone." 

"Pussy Galore's?"Bob repeated,then gave Logan a sidelong glance."Want to wager it's a strip club?" 

"That'd be my bet,"he agreed.Sadly he wasn't as well acquainted with strip clubs as seedy bars,but that was mostly by choice. He liked naked women as much as the next guy,but strip bars struck him as really pathetic,but maybe that's because he could smell the desperation and the hopeless lust of the men,and the flop sweat of women who were putting on a show while holding almost all their audience in complete and utter contempt.It was hard to buy into any sense of fantasy when you knew the ugly reality.There were some real drawbacks to having a hyper-sensitive nose. 

"What number did you call to contact Mr. Black?" 

"I don't remember." 

"Sure you do.The last time you called him,the number you dialed was..?" 

"Five five five,seven two four oh." 

"Good lad." 

"Did he just try and lie to you?"Logan asked.He didn't think that was possible. 

"No.He honestly thought he had forgotten.But if you hit the right memory,it comes back." 

So why doesn't that work for me,Logan thought,but didn't say. 

"Why did Mr. Black want Professor Xavier's people dead?" 

"I don't know.I didn't ask." 

"No,of course not,"Bob agreed darkly."All you need to know is if the money is good." 

"Yes,"Steen agreed,as if that had been a question. 

"How much money did you get for raising Legion?" 

"Twenty five thousand dollars." 

"Wow,you're cheap." 

"Are you serious?"Logan asked. 

"Absolutely.Raising Legion is such a bitch I'd never charge under a hundred thou for it,"Bob said,adding,"not that I'd ever raise Legion for any price." 

Logan simply grunted in acknowledgment,reserving further comment.Only Bob himself knew what he was capable of. 

"Did Mr. Black give you any specific instructions for Legion?"Bob continued. 

"Leave the Professor alive." 

"Why?" 

"There were other plans for him." 

Logan raised an eyebrow."What do you mean?"He then shifted his gaze to Bob,the only man who could actually answer. 

"Did he say what those plans were?"Bob asked,although Logan couldn't help but notice he wasn't surprised in the least:Bob had expected him to say something like that.What did Bob know that they didn't? 

"No." 

Bob glanced impatiently at the mewling forms of Legion in the corner,and said,"You have the power.Now send them back." 

Steen turned slowly,like a man under water,and said a few things,some of which may have been in Latin,but to Logan it could have all been Esperanto-how in the hell did he know?But Logan could feel something happening-it seemed to prickle on his skin-and Steen raised his hands with a flourish,and something like a dark light began swirling around Legion,like a spider spinning a web.Suddenly it seemed to cover Legion like a black cocoon,and in a flash of light and a brief burst of sulphur and a smell something like overcooked meat,Legion were gone. 

"Can he make himself gone?"Logan asked Bob. 

"You won't remember us,"Bob went on,probably ignoring him."And when you come to,maybe you'll consider the fact that selling your services like a hit man is a really bad idea,because it might get you in the middle of a battle you could only lose. Also,you'll have an urge to move as far away from here as quickly as possible.Night now." 

Steen just passed out,falling to the dirt floor of the barn like a marionette violently severed from its strings,a small cloud of dust puffing up on impact.Logan realized,for the first time,"A wizard named Milo from Jersey?" 

"We can't all have cool names,"Bob replied."And technically I'm English by birth."He shuddered dramatically in distaste. 

"Oh right,Botany Bay."Logan wasn't really sure if he should believe that or not."What were you sent up for?" 

"Thievery.Oh,how I loved to take the piss by stealing things from people.I knew I'd be caught half the time,but I didn't care-it was the principal of the thing." 

"The principal?What principal?" 

"That I thought they were twats.Understand this was long before I had the powers I have now.Now I know better ways to take the piss out of people-who needs their stuff?" 

Logan nodded in understanding-well,sort of-but it didn't honestly surprise him that Bob had been a thief,and he didn't really know why.Maybe he just had the temperament.But he got back to the original topic as they left Steen snoring in the barn."You suspected Xavier was the real target all along,didn't you?" 

Bob arched an eyebrow at him in curiosity,but he gave him an approving smile."Now why would you think that?" 

"Spare me the bullshit." 

"How can I?Bullshit is my middle name." 

Logan scowled at him,and Bob's smile grew wider.He really lived for this sort of thing,didn't he? 

Rather than head back the way they came,Bob headed out towards the road,and Logan followed,although he wondered why. "Come on-why did you think Xavier was at the heart of this?" 

They had reached the edge of the road by the time Bob deigned to answer him."The attack on the town drew the wunderkinds out,leaving Xavier all by his lonesome,a state he would have remained in had Jean's telekinesis not come in really handy.And the attack on the mansion would have been successful the second time if you hadn't been there." 

"Do you think Xavier knows?"He didn't think the Professor was the type to lie.But didn't everybody lie,even if only to themselves? 

"I'm not really sure.That's why I want to have a talk with him."Bob said it neutrally,but Logan could not shake the feeling Bob was lying.He had suspected a Xavier connection almost from the get go,hadn't he?Is that why he asked him how he made his money?Holy shit.Bob was really damn good:he missed his calling as a detective. 

A small blue Toyota came puttering around the corner ,heading in the opposite direction,and Bob walked out into the middle of the road and stood in its path.The car slowed,then stopped,and Bob,at Logan's questioning look,explained,"I think it's in everybody's best interest that we get back to the mansion as soon as possible." 

Bob then looked in at the driver of the car,an elderly woman with curly brown hair and a kind,round face who looked like the stereotypical grandmother type,and said,"Sorry ma'am,but we're two teenage girls whose car has broken down.We're very harmless-we remind you of your nieces-and you'd be more than happy to give us a lift to the Xavier school back in Westchester."  
"I am not a teenage girl."Logan protested. 

Bob looked over his shoulder at him,giving him a mischievous,highly amused smile."Now you are." 

"Oh,you poor things,"the woman said,and reached over to open the passenger side door."Hop in." 

Bob held the door open,and said,almost laughing,"Come on,Susan." 

Logan's evil death stare finally pushed Bob over the edge,making him laugh uproariously.Good or not,he had the most fucked up sense of humor he had ever known. 

    8 

    Logan caught him slipping the cash in the woman's purse,and Bob really had no excuse for it. 

Well,no,of course he did:he felt terrible 'pushing' an innocent,and he had to assuage his guilt somehow.One hundred dollars seemed a small price to pay for it,even though Logan looked at him like he was insane.But then he was human,and money meant something to him.It was the language of Human society;it greased the wheels,it kept the world turning,and seemed to solve all manner of ills.Or at least they thought it did.But they caused a lot of problems too-it sort of depended on how you looked at it,and what exactly you did with the cash. 

Jean and Scott were waiting for them as they returned to the mansion,and having seen what happened in the garden,were slightly nonplussed.Scott pointed out testily it looked like hypnotism,but Bob let it pass:he was still ashamed of his reaction to what happened earlier,and he was just trying to snip his way past it.Fine with him-no harm,no foul. 

He also gave a slightly sanitized version of what happened at the farmhouse,to spare Logan the agony of explaining.He shorthanded it,saying Legion were 'brought in' by a middleman,paid to take them out and leave Xavier vulnerable.He left them to trace the phone number,and went off to talk to the Professor alone. 

Bob found him in his office,seated behind his desk,looking through a heavy tome that could have been anything.Even though the sun was streaming in through the window behind him,he squinted  as he looked up at the door:pain,of course."Can I talk to you for a minute?"Bob asked,then clarified,"Do you think you can stand me for a bit?" 

"Yes,I think so,"he said with a kind smile,closing the book. 

Bob entered the office,shutting the thick mahogany door securely behind him,and noticed the portable chalkboard off to the left of Xavier's desk.There was a diagram of what appeared to be a wormhole on it in three dimensional space,but it could have been copied from a Stephen Hawking book.It looked all wrong. 

Unable to help himself,he went over,erased most of the wormhole's 'tail',the funnel shaped center that kept the openings in either universe in place,and using the piece of chalk in the tray quickly sketched out how it really was:not so much a worm as a hydra squared;infinite passages to infinite places,off ramps on the celestial highway.It all depended on what your starting point was,and how you intended to get there.He added grid points,references in 'real' space,and quickly retreated back towards the door,brushing chalk dust from his hands. 

Xavier quirked a slender eyebrow up at him."That's a radical interpretation of theoretical physics." 

"It's not theoretical." 

"I was afraid you were going to say that,"he admitted,smiling faintly,still glancing at the new information on the chalkboard. After a moment,he said,"Would you ever like to be a guest lecturer?" 

Bob shrugged."I don't know.It gets pretty wacky after a while." 

"I'm sure."The smile faded,and he was all business."How did it go?" 

He told him the whole story,not leaving out the fact that the middleman was a wizard.Xavier accepted it all with equanimity,and didn't seem the least bit surprised,but then Bob didn't expect him to be.He leaned against the door,and asked,"When did you encounter Legion before?" 

Xavier looked stunned."What?I've never seen them before." 

Truth."But you knew they weren't Human." 

He nodded."I couldn't sense anything from them.And since they weren't wearing Erik's helmet,I had to assume they were inhuman to some capacity." 

That was another truth,although Bob had no idea who Erik was,and it was a sort of half-truth."And you knew Logan could kill them." 

That made Xavier pause.He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it,thinking better of protesting his innocence.He then said,"I knew if anyone could,he could." 

Truth again,but one that sort of avoided the question."Because of what he is,and what they were." 

Xavier looked at him curiously."Are you getting at something?" 

"I just want to make sure you're not-with the best of intentions-using him like the government used him.As a weapon. Because that's what he was created and conditioned for,and we both know it.He is the soldier who is never disarmed,and can't be killed,and they drilled it into him so well he thinks that's all he's good for." 

Xavier looked stunned,anger and shame briefly warring across his face before fleeing,leaving a placid expression in its wake."I would never exploit Logan.I want to help him." 

Truth there-good."I'm glad.He needs all the help he can get,whether he admits it or not.But you are using him as a safety net. When it boils down to it,if he can't hurt a thing he will instantly find a way to do it,come hell or high water,and none of your other people are inclined that way.They don't like violence,and try to avoid it when at all possible.Commendable,but no good to you here and now." 

"You are getting at something,"Xavier said grimly,his expression turning to stone. 

"You were expecting something like this,Professor.Maybe not Legion specifically,but an inhuman attack.A demon attack.Who did you piss off,Professor?" 

Xavier had to think about that for a long moment,and still seemed unsure as he admitted,"I'm sure I've pissed off many people, many I don't even know." 

"What about demons?" 

"It's possible." 

Oh man-lie.In capital neon letters."Professor,you asked me what I was earlier.Maybe I should tell you now I'm a Belial." 

"Belial?"He pondered that a moment."As in the 'demon of lies'?" 

"Exactamundo.And it really does take one to know one,so would you like to answer that question again?" 

Xavier frowned,but had the decency to look embarrassed at being caught out.With great reluctance,he said,"It was a long time ago...and I do believe he is dead." 

"Some demons don't die,Professor-they just lay in wait until some dumbass decides to give them a helping hand back." 

Xavier glanced down at the clean surface of his desk,chagrined and a bit angry at himself,but Bob couldn't tell if it was for all of this,being caught in a lie,or a combination of everything. 

"You had Logan bring me into this because I am a demon,and you knew you were facing an inhuman threat.I want you to understand some things,Professor:I think what you're doing here is terrific,very noble,all that shit.You'll probably get a big donation from me in the future.Also,if you want to find this guy in a timely manner,I'm your best and only hope.But I am not doing this for you.Logan asked for help,so as far as I'm concerned,I am helping him.At least he doesn't try to lie to me."Xavier looked sharply up at him,but Bob wasn't interested in his excuses for it."You want to keep this from your people?Fine,that's your choice.But if I'm to help you in any way I need the truth.And I can get it,one way or another." 

His whole expression sharpened,his blue eyes narrowing to slits that had nothing to do with pain."Is that a threat?" 

"No,it's a statement of fact.And I think you know that." 

Xavier studied him for a moment,his lips thinning,eyes softening their focus and becoming more clinical."You're a very dangerous man." 

"I am,"Bob admitted."Which is why you want me on your side.So talk,Professor,and save your self-loathing for later." 

Xavier probably wasn't going to like him much after this,but hell,sometimes being a problem solver meant losing out on Miss Congeniality. 

Besides,a tiara was bound to mess up his hair. 

** 

    "It's a cloned number,"Logan sighed,rubbing his eyes.He might have had two hours sleep thanks to Legion,but he could feel exhaustion settling on him,making his joints ache and his eyes as dry as sand,and he could swear he could feel all the weight of his adamantium skeleton on top of his real bones,crushing but never quite finishing the job. 

It would pass.He was an expert at staying up for long periods of time,and knew as soon as he got his second wind,he'd be fine.It was just waiting for the second wind that was a bitch. 

"Shit,"Scott hissed under his breath.He'd certainly been cursing more since Bob accidentally humiliated him-coincidence? 

"Stolen,I presume?"Jean asked,looking between then.Logan nodded as Scott started pacing the room behind them.From her lingering scent alone he knew this was Storm's office they had borrowed,and that seemed a little creepy somehow.Not that he cared,exactly,but Storm might later if they screwed up her stuff. 

"Yes.Number cloning is where -"Scott began,but there was no way in hell Logan was sitting here for a lecture. 

"They copied it from someone's cell phone and used it until they were found out or,most likely,were simply done with it,"  
Logan explained,getting it over with.Scott scowled at him for interrupting,but he scowled right back.He didn't care about him, either. 

"So where does that leave us?"Jean wondered,giving Logan an exaggeratedly evil look.Probably because she'd have to turn around to throw it at Scott. 

"Shit out of luck,"Logan answered flippantly."A state where everyone knows our name." 

Scott stopped his pacing long enough to look at him."What?You don't think your hypnotist friend can pull a rabbit out of his hat?"  
Logan stared at him more in impatience than disbelief."Ignoring the fact that you mixed your metaphors,teach,you really don't wanna fuck with Bob.He's bein' nice to you now-god knows why-but when he runs out of patience with your bullshit,you won't even remember what he does to you.But we will." 

Scott crossed his arms over his chest,and got a look on his face like he felt like being beligerent."I'm not afraid of him." 

"Then you're stupider than I thought,"he shot back."You should be.You haven't seen this guy in action.Oh wait,yes you have..." 

"He does seem very powerful,"Jean interrupted,cutting Logan off and trying to cool Scott's jets at the same time.Good luck to her."Does he really alter reality simply by willing it so?That's...unimaginable." 

"I'm not sure what he does.All I know is he can fuck with the heads of a room full of people,and none of them are ever the wiser.I don't know if he can kill with a word,but I wouldn't be surprised." 

"And he's a good guy?"Scott asked incredulously. 

"No.I don't think terms like good or bad applies to him.Or me,actually." 

"That I believe,"Scott said darkly.Jean turned to look at him over her shoulder,and he bet she finally gave him the evil eye.Scott threw up his hands in exasperation,and said."I need some coffee.Do you want something?" 


	5. Part 5

"Some tea would be nice,"she said,giving him a small smile. 

Even though Scott had directed the question solely at Jean,Logan said,"I could use a beer." 

Scott frowned at him."This is a school,Logan.We don't have alcohol on the premises." 

"What?Are you fucking Mormons?"He exclaimed,aghast.How did anyone survive around him without booze?"Fine,just get me something with caffeine in it." 

Scott shook his head as he left the room,and when he was out in the hall,leaving the door open behind him,he muttered under his breath,"Low life asshole." 

"I heard that!"Logan snapped. 

"Give him a break,"Jean said softly."This has been hard on him." 

"He can join the fucking club." 

"He's never really been beaten in a fight before,nonetheless the thing that happened with his eyes." 

"Yeah,well,we all get beaten sometime.It's part of life." 

She gave him a curious look,almost but not quite smiling."Are you admitting you've been beaten?" 

He grimaced at her,but as he thought about it he ran a hand through his hair,giving him an excuse to look away and down at the top of Storm's neat desk rather than Jean's face."I must have been once to end up with the claws." 

He sort of wished he'd kept his mouth shut-he could feel the pity in the silence that followed-and was about to get up and leave and look for Bob when she reached across the desk and touched his face,her palm scratching against the stubble on his  cheek. "Why don't you get some sleep,Logan?"She suggested gently."You look exhausted." 

He looked at her-he really had no choice-and asked,only partially joking,"I don't know-you wanna tuck me in?" 

She gave him a familiar,tired smile,but it was a smile."Logan-"she started,already adopting an apologetic tone of voice. 

"No,it's okay,"he interrupted,putting his hand over hers.He knew he should remove it,but her hand was so warm it felt kind of good against his cheek.Shit,he must be tired."If I can't make lame jokes I'll die." 

She continued to smile at him,and made no move to remove her hand."I think we all get like that sometimes." 

He was about to ask if that was true of Scott-he doubted it-when suddenly they heard,from the doorway,"Okay,I'm going to go back and come in again." 

He turned as Jean withdrew her hand instantaneously,as if he'd suddenly become electrified,and they both saw Bob attempting to slink out the open doorway."Get back here,"Logan snapped,jumping to his feet.It was a good thing to be up,actually:Jean was sitting in the padded chair behind the desk,so he got stuck with the unpadded butt numb-er in front of it."Did you find out anything?" 

"No,I didn't see a thing."At Logan's raised eyebrow,he said,"Oh,you mean about our demon foe?Yes,I think so.But to get started I'm going to need to figure out where the demon hotspots are.I haven't been in New York for so long I'm sure the places I remember no longer exist." 

"And how do we do that?"Jean asked,also standing,but in a slower,more composed manner.But she looked a little flushed.She was embarrassed?About what? 

"Well-"Bob began,but never had a chance to finish. 

Logan felt the shift in the air before the green skinned demon appeared at the opposite end of the office,seemingly stepping straight out of thin air. 

    9 

    The instant the demon materialized,Jean,already stinging from being caught obliquely flirting with Logan (did he realize that?No,he probably thought that was innocent,simply the dance they did),used her telekinesis to pin it against the wall. 

Sadly,it was someone he knew wouldn't appreciate it. 

"Hey Carrie,back the fuck off,"Helga spat,her face flushing a darker green in rage. 

"Uh,Jean-"Logan began. 

"She's with me,"Bob quickly explained."You can let her go." 

"She's Bob's,er..."Logan continued,apparently not completely sure what Hel was,or at least not wanting to admit it. 

"Business associate,"Bob supplied. 

"Girlfriend."Logan finished. 

"Bodyguard,bang buddy,and your murderer if you don't let me go,bitch,"Helga snapped. 

"Hey,"Logan replied angrily,stepping protectively between Helga and Jean."Watch it.You should've have called before you dropped in.We've had a hell of a day." 

Jean let her go.Helga took a deep breath and stepped out from the wall,but as she flexed her shoulders,he saw her tail twitching back and forth like an enraged cat about to take a swat at the nearest person."I'm not afraid of your claws,Logan,"she purred,in a silky,deadly voice."Are you afraid of a little tail?" 

Logan arched an eyebrow at her,openly baffled.Only Hel could be simultaneously threatening and flirtatious,and never see the inherent problem in that dichotomy.That was why Bob loved her:the great little paradox.He'd have married her if she believed in any sort of legalized commitment. 

"Hel,back off,okay?"He asked,going up to her and placing himself between her and Logan.Maybe she wasn't afraid of his claws,but he was:if Logan got a good shot,he could easily kill her,as good as she was.It was not a fight he ever wanted to see. "It was an honest mistake." 

She shot Jean a scathing look over his shoulder,then looked between Logan and him with a small moue of distasteful surrender."Yeah,all right,but just this once.Keep your girlfriend in line,Logan." 

"I'm not his girlfriend,"Jean shot back,her voice as cold as ice. 

"Aren't you?Well,from the hormones I'm picking up-"Helga began,but Bob made a slashing motion across his throat,sending a desperate plea with his eyes.He didn't want to 'push' her,but he could. 

"Excuse me?"Jean asked,starting to sound pissed off. 

Helga gave him an exaggerated sort of "only for you,you bastard" look,and said,"There's too many humans here.Or there have been,anyways.Do you people know exactly how you smell?" 

"Not as bad as Legion,"Logan said."Well,mostly." 

"Legion?"She looked at Bob."Did I show up in time for an ass whupping?" 

"Sorry,hon,you just missed it,"he told her,giving her a small kiss on the forehead. 

Helga was at least modestly attire-well,for her.She had on her usual low slung jeans (so her tail could be unencumbered),but not the really tight ones,and her black t-shirt barely exposed any midriff and no cleavage,although the name 'Professional Murder Music' was emblazoned in red across her breasts like some kind of personal ad from 'Soldier of Fortune' magazine.He knew from the faint scent of machine oil that she was packing heat;probably her favorite Glock,semi automatic and and platinum plated to give it a silver sheen as bright as jewelry.Also,it could stop a buffalo at a hundred paces. 

"Shit,"Helga cursed,disappointed. 

"But I'm glad you're here,Hel-I was just about to call you,"he admitted,giving Logan a glance that he hoped communicated that they could all stand down now.He seemed to understand,but looked ready to spring forward at a moment's notice.Kind of funny,because Jean,with her powers,didn't need the help,and surely Logan knew that.But he had to be knee jerk chivalrous."I need to find out the demon hot spots in this neck of New York." 

"Is that all?"Now she was very disappointed.She wanted some action-just about any kind would do. 

"For now.But you know your help is always welcome." 

"Why would she know the demon hot spots of New York?"Logan asked,taking his seat once more.Jean remained standing,but now on the other side of the desk,placing it between her and Helga.She continued to eye her suspiciously,like an unstable guard dog. 

"She was born here,"he told him,then looked to Hel for confirmation of her birthplace."Queens?" 

She shook her head."Greenwich Village." 

"Well,that explains everything,"Jean muttered under her breath. 

Helga caught that and gave her a dirty look,but otherwise let it go.Well,for now."There's a large enclave of Stansin demons around here.I'll just ask them where they go for some action." 

"I should never leave the room,should I?"Scott asked,standing in the doorway behind them,a cup of coffee in one hand and a mug of tea in the other. 

"That might actually be wise,"Bob agreed,although probably not for the reasons he meant. 

"Saves us the recap,"Logan added. 

That was one thing about humans-the fun never stopped. 

** 

    He managed to get everyone on track without anymore violence or bloodshed-again,at least for now-and with Helga checking her contacts in town he thought he'd have a quiet moment. 

Well,almost. 

Bob was in the main corridor,headed back down to the lower levels,when Logan caught up with him."Hey,hold up,"he said, while Bob grimaced before turning to face him.He knew what he was going to ask. 

"I can't tell you,Logan,"he said,cutting him off. 

Logan seemed momentarily taken aback."What?Why the hell not?If Xavier's mixed up in something that could get us killed-" 

"It's up to him to tell all of you or not.I will let you know what is vital to know,but otherwise it's up to him to step up to the plate." 

Logan's expression seemed to harden,set like cement."Are you protecting him?" 

"No,not at all.I'm just not going to make this easy on him.Of all people,you should know there are some things people need to do for themselves." 

Logan looked far from appeased."Are you at least going to tell me what we're up against?" 

Bob couldn't help but grimace again.Logan was asking all the tough questions today."Well,I'm not completely sure." 

Logan's eyes widened in angry disbelief.He looked pissed off enough to try and slug him."This is bullshit,"he snarled. 

"I assure you it's not.He couldn't send me the image because of the harm I'd do to him if our minds actually came into contact with one another,and what he described fit a lot of demons,much like your initial description of Legion." 

"And you expect me to believe you can't narrow it down?" 

"I have,but that still leaves me with a host of suspects.Just bear with me here,Logan.As soon as I know something for sure,you will know." 

"Then tell me what the Professor told you,"he countered impatiently. 

He should have known he wouldn't let it go."When you need to know,"Bob told him patiently."Not until then.Do you really want to push me?You know I push back." 

Logan didn't need to ask if that was a threat or something else,because they both knew the reality here:Logan could be as stubborn as he wanted to be,but ultimately Bob would win this argument,one way or another.And while he didn't want to win it in such a devious manner,he wasn't going to stand here all day and keep going around in conversational circles with him either. 

Logan's green eyes were hot enough to melt ice,but with a dissatisfied low growl in the back of his throat he took a step back, symbolically and physically,yet Bob could still see the trouble in his eyes."No,don't even try it.I'm faster."He warned him. 

There was a sharp whistle from the end of the hall,and they both turned to see Helga leaning out of a doorway,looking at them.  
"The big demon place to be is called The Seventh Circle-it's about twenty five miles from here.Are we going to roll or what?" 

"Absolutely,"he told her,then looked to Logan once more."Tell me-can that fabulous nose of yours track down a Human in a club full of smelly demons?" 

Logan raised his eyebrows sharply,clearly thrown by the change of topic.But Bob knew they were all going to find out. 

    10 

    Kelso returned to the car,as quiet as a rampaging water buffalo searching for a mate,but this neighborhood was so fucking strange they didn't attract any attention at all. 

Tony tried Milo's number again,but for the fourth time in forty minutes,there was no answer.He snapped his cell phone shut as Kelso passed a paper cup full of some fuel grade espresso to Reddick ,who was stinking up his back seat.He claimed he had showered earlier,so that had to be the guy's natural smell,and god,was it foul:he smelled like burning tires that had recently run over a skunk. 

"Ten to one that fucking wizard double crossed us,"Tony muttered,as Kelso handed him his cup of latte. 

"We got a confirm,"Kelso argued."Legion hit the mansion." 

"And they were repelled,"Reddick commented,his voice strangely sibilant,and constantly full of a low level derision."Why was that?" 

"Why do you think I'm trying to get a hold of Steen?"Tony snapped,resisting the urge to look at  Reddick's leering,ugly mug in the rearview mirror. 

Tony rested a hand on the steering wheel,and glanced out the black tinted window of the rental Mercedes,hidden well in the parking lot of a large bank,and glanced once again at the facade of the club called The Seventh Circle.The sidewalk around the converted clothing warehouse was remarkably bare,with no sign of the homeless,hookers,or drug dealers that worked the surrounding blocks,but there was a damn good reason for that:people who loitered around here usually ended up 'the catch of the day',somebody's lunch or dinner.Also,in defiance of the rest of the neighboring blocks,it was spotlessly clean,from the cement facade to the cracked sidewalk and pothole ridden street in front,probably because they generally killed out of the way, and,if not,the blood was hosed off regularly. 

They were keeping an eye out for the secondary contact,the back up if Steen failed (which he obviously had),as he was hardly listed in the phone book:a big ugly Wartros demon named Krek.Reddick said he virtually lived in Seventh Circle,which seemed like a pretentious name for what was,in essence,a demon disco. 

As they watched,a sleek black sports car pulled up to the curb and parked,placing themselves almost directly in front of the club's main entrance,blocking a view of everything but the large blood red neon sign bearing the name of the joint. 

"Is this our guy?"Kelso asked,as both doors of the sports car popped open...and out came the weirdest assortment of freaks he had seen since his sister's wedding. 

The driver was a human looking guy with some sort of weird headgear-if a pair of black welding goggles had been mated with wraparound sunglasses-and the guy who got out of the passenger side was scruffy looking,with the worst hair he had absolutely ever seen,and way too much facial hair. 

"Those can't be humans,can they?"Kelso asked,shocked,as a man as eerily handsome as scruffy guy was unsettling came out of the back,looking fashionable in designer sunglasses that hid his eyes,but were not full on head gear like the clean cut driver wore. 

The woman who got out on the other side was..."Green?"Tony gasped."Definitely demon." 

"Good eye,"Reddick hissed sarcastically from the back seat."Stansin demon,to be exact.They like to fuck and they like to fight, and they do both equally well.And the women are worse than the men." 

"How so?"Kelso wondered. 

"The women have tails.Think of it as a third arm,only flexible and far stronger than it looks.If you dare to fight a female Stansin, watch out for the tail."Reddick then made a strange hissing sort of noise that could have been a sibilant laugh,and probably was. 

"What?"Tony demanded,irritated.God,how he hated this smug parasite. 

"The hairy one knows he's being watched,"he hissed,still laughing,and Tony looked and confirmed for himself this was true: the guy with way too much facial hair was looking around intensely,as if searching for a sniper.His narrowed green eyes scoured the parking lot several times (there was no way he could seem them,was there?Tony would have sworn he stared straight at him once...),and he was apparently telling the others,as they all looked around. 

The hairy guy wasn't actually sniffing the air like a dog,was he? 

"I recognize that guy,"Kelso said,pointing towards the guy with the headgear. 

Tony stared at him,and realized he was right."Fuck,"he cursed,as the memory clicked into place."That's one of Xavier's people. Scott something." 

"Weren't they all injured?"Kelso asked."He looks fine." 

Tony continued to curse under his breath,not quite believing the luck."Damn mutants.They can't even die like normal people." 

"Everything dies,"Reddick hissed from the back seat."Being a mutant isn't enough." 

The handsome guy took the hairy guy by the arm and whispered something in his ear,and with great reluctance Hairy gave up his search.Which was a good thing since he was now in the middle of the street,and looked like he might be headed for the lot.There was something about the way the guy moved that set off alarms in Tony's head:he didn't walk more than he stalked, and he carried himself like a guy with a hundred pounds more muscles than he actually he had.He radiated the rough and ready confidence of a guy who knew he could kick anything's ass,and in fact would like to do so right now."He's muscle,"Tony said,with a jerk of his head."I didn't think Xavier was the type to bring in an outside contractor." 

"He's probably a mutant too,"Reddick hissed. 

"You know,I heard somethin' about Xavier having a new mutant in his organization last year,"Kelso commented,taking a sip of his latte. 

""What kind of mutant?"Tony wondered,as his eyes fell on the pretty boy.Pretty boy,in spite of the way he looked,seemed to ooze with fearlessness:it was confidence squared to infinity.He seemed to have the aura of a man who owned the entire fucking world.Was he a mutie too? 

"Some psycho out of Canada with bad hair and a worse attitude." 

"The hair fits,"Tony noted."Why was he a psycho?" 

"I don't know.I've heard rumors he was a hitman for the government." 

"The Canadian government?"Reddick asked incredulously,making that hissing laugh again."Who do they take out hits on? Sweden?" 

"I don't know which government,"Kelso conceded."It's just a rumor .But he was bad news either way." 

"What's his mutation?" 

"Strength,I think.I'm not sure." 

"That tracks,"Tony said,nodding in agreement,watching the strange group of mutant men and their demon playmate go inside the club. 

"Should we move in and take 'em?"Kelso wondered. 

Tony thought about it,sparing a glance at his companions.Kelso was so damn ordinary looking even his own family sometimes mistook him for someone else:his face so round and soft,his hair and eyes so equally pale,he looked truly hideous in the brown suit he was wearing today,like a pipe cleaner man made by a spastic child wearing mittens.He was frightening looking,but not in a way it counted. 

That's where Reddick came in.He was an oddly shaped guy,like he was too tall for his own damn body.Everything about him- arms,legs,torso-seemed too long and narrow,while his flesh was too pale and waxen-where Kelso looked washed out,Reddick looked corroded.His hair was oil black and permanently spiky,in a sort of punk cut that made him look like an '80's reject,and his choice of wardrobe-long,tattered army coat,combat boots,jeans held together by stains alone,and old ripped t-shirts (today it was a black one with 'Buzzcocks' printed on it in white letters)-completed the punk theme.The only odd thing-beyond his bad hygiene,and his strange speech impediment (he always sounded like he was hissing,buzzing,or both),and his teeth,which were not only kind of yellow but looked as if they had been fused together,and the fact that he always kept his eyes covered with big black sunglasses-was his walk.He walked on the balls of his feet,and while his heels gave the impression of touching the ground,Tony bet it was an optical illusion.There was something perfectly unsettling about the man,beyond his smell and his general attitude of condescension.Okay,he wasn't a man,he was some kind of demon,but he was also a mercenary,a killer for hire who sometimes did it more for love (of killing) than money.How did he kill?Acid,apparently,but he wouldn't say where it came from or how he used it,he just said,"You'll see." 

A rumor he had heard,though,said Reddick had an acid sac at the back of his throat-meaning he literally vomited it on people. That would explain his melted teeth...but how disgusting. 

But that tracked too.Reddick was disgusting:he was revulsion personified. 

"The hairy one is mine,"Reddick hissed,with a slight buzz that he now knew was a sound of happiness. 

"No,we wait for Krek,"he decided,as he was unsure what to make of muscles or the pretty boy,and if he remembered correctly the Scott guy shot things at people.Even with the semi-automatic under his sportscoat and Reddick,he wasn't ready to throw down yet. 

"What if it's Krek they're after?"Kelso wondered. 

Tony weighed that thought,along with his loyalty to the boss,and what he had been contracted to do."Then Krek's on his own,"he replied,before finally having a sip of his latte. 

** 

    As soon as he entered the club,Logan felt assaulted. 

It wasn't really the noise,although it was goddamn deafening:Rage Against The Machine was currently raging from speakers that seemed scattered about the ceiling,at a volume level that could detonate land minds from a distance.He could just about feel it vibrating his internal organs,but hey,at least it was a good song. 

The smell was inexcusable,though.Too many demons,most warm blooded,packed into a large room still only meant to fit about half of them,and most of them reeked like various types of noxious fluids and garbage left to rot in the sun.Still,even this bitter,stinky miasma was better than Legion,but not by much. 

If the club-obviously a converted warehouse-had windows,they had been painted over (for the vampires,he instantly thought, and knew just how silly a thought that was,true or not).All the light inside was artificial,dim,and blood red,kind of like heating lamps in some fast food joints.And as the four of them came in the door heads instantly turned-all kinds of heads. Humanoid,insectoid,reptiloid,and god knows what-oid;a cavalcade of butt ugly demons,only one or two of which he actually recognized the species of. 

Scott,behind him,made some sort of noise,pain/disgust over the volume and type of music,but when he got a good look at the crowd,many of which were now staring at them (did someone forget to put up the 'no humans welcome' sign?),he froze in his tracks,and made another variation of the noise as he gaped back at them,clearly stunned."What the-" 

Before he could hear if Scott said the actual 'f' word (if he said 'fudge',Logan knew he'd have to hit him just on principal),a pair of good (Human) looking young women closed in on him from both sides."What's a guy like you doing in a place like this?" The blonde one said,slipping her arm through Scott's. 

If that hackneyed old line had not been a giveaway,the smell was:vampires. 

Logan turned,and,even though he briefly considered letting the vamps have old One Eye,he pressed his fist against the side of the blonde's neck,and popped the claws on his other hand,just so she could see what she was in for.She had grabbed his wrist with surprising strength,but as soon as she saw the nine inch adamantium claws spring out she went rigid with shock. "Left the wood at home,"he admitted."But I'm kinda guessing even a vampire needs its head." 

Her Korean vamp friend,who stood on the other side of Scott,was suddenly pulled away violently,head cocked at a rather strange angle,and it only took him a second to see why:Helga had wrapped her slender tail around her neck,and was a single twitch away from snapping it,which might not kill her but would certainly put a cramp in her style. 

"Vampire?"Scott echoed incredulously,before laughing."Are you saying you believe in vampires?" 

"Ah,he's a dumb one too,"the Korean vamp rasped ruefully,with a pointless grip on Helga's tail.Maybe stupid ones tasted better. 

"What the fuck are you?"The blonde spat,her blue eyes as cold as the Arctic tundra. 

"The man who's going to take the 'un' out of dead if you don't back the fuck off,sister,"he replied,tensing the muscles in his forearm. 

"That will never work as a cool action phrase,"the blonde noted,before slowly removing her arm from Scott and backing off,letting go of his wrist at the last second.As if there had ever been anything she could have done to stop his claws from taking her head off. 

The Korean vamp let go of Helga's tail,but instead of letting her go peaceably Helga flicked her tail and sent her spinning away,right into a group of toady looking demons,but at least her neck hadn't been snapped. 

While the immediate vampire threat had been dealt with,the rest of the demons had noticed the nice fresh blood on the hoof, and started to converge on them,drool escaping from some of their leering faces.At least he hoped they were faces. 

Bob,who had been faintly singing along with the music-he must have liked the song too-stepped forward and took off his sunglasses."We're just plain old demons,"he said,loudly enough to be heard over the music."We don't smell Human,we don't look it.Just ignore us." 

The restless,growing mob turned away,slightly confused but otherwise unaware of anything that had transpired. 

"What the hell was that all about?"Scott asked. 

Logan retracted his claws,and scowled at him."You're welcome." 

"What?"He shouted in reply,perhaps thinking the loud music made him misunderstand everything. 

"Come on,"Bob said,putting his sunglasses back on."But be alert.Some demons are immune to me." 

"I didn't think anything was immune to you,"Logan replied. 

He just shrugged."It's rare,but it happens."Bob hung his sunglasses from the front pocket of his pants,and led the way through the smelly,fugly mob,with Helga right behind him.Logan followed,and Scott stuck close behind him. 

"You believe in vampires?"Scott repeated,sounding endlessly amused. 

"Eat me,"he snarled,thinking he should have let the vampires do just that to Scott. 

They made their way through the crowd,past the small chrome bar on the left side of the room (no mirrors,though-no shock there) and closer to what may have been a dance floor,but looked more like a place where epileptic demons went to have mass episodes or engage in some sort of strange liturgical dance.The far more atonal Quarashi song "Stick 'Em Up" started pounding through the surround sound system,feeling like an aural avalanche coming down on their heads,and as much as it abused his sensitive ears,he knew Scott had to be suffering more simply due to the fact that he hated this kind of music,and it made Logan perversely happy. 

He wished Jean had come instead,but she had said she wanted to keep an eye on Storm,yet they all knew she was really sticking around the mansion to protect the Professor if need be-after all,she had been the only one who had been able to do anything against Legion before he (and Bob) showed up.But she couldn't say it and bruise Scott's tender ego further. 

"Think you can do it,Logan?"Bob asked,shouting over his shoulder at him. 

"I'll try,"he shouted in reply,and closed his eyes to block out the visual stimulation,and focus solely on the smells of the room. There was no way to block out the overwhelming noise thudding through the club,but he could shove it aside as he concentrated on the odors. 

In a way,the smells painted their own picture:acid hues of yellow and red over a sludgy,ichor green and muddy brown,anoxic blue and sunset orange over a baseline blacker than night.Not all demons smelled bad-Bob,for instance,smelled like electricity and water,and Helga had a sort of dried leaf smell that was not unpleasant.Some demons smelled better than humans,their scents being earthy and almost alluring,in their way.The 'picture' of their scents was far more beautiful than with pedestrian Humans... 

Human. 

"Got 'em,"he said,concentrating on that thin beige line that represented the Human in here:in spite of its faintness,it still managed to stand out against the vivid palette of scents.He turned towards that line,that invisible thread of odor,and said,"Near the back,southwest corner." 

"Wow! Have you ever thought of being a bounty hunter?"Bob said,sounding impressed. 

He opened his eyes and scowled at him,but his attention was instantly torn by a high pitched,startled scream from the front of the club.It sounded like a girl.In fact,it sounded like... 

"Rogue,"he snapped,instantly heading back towards the doors. 

    11 

    "What?"Scott shouted,and instantly followed him. 

Some demons just weren't moving fast enough for him,so he held up his fist and popped his claws,and the nearest slimy demon blocking his way jumped as if he'd just gotten a cattle prod up the ass."Fuck!"It exclaimed,scrambling quickly out of his way.Many other demons had similar reactions,and he found it much easier to get through the crowd. 

Soon he saw he was right:a small young girl,hidden in a long hooded dark green coat,was backed up against the left side wall, trying to avoid a grey demon with an unfortunate skin condition that made it look as if his skin was full of gnarls and burrs, like diseased tree bark.He had backed her up there,and appeared to have a hold of her (gloved) right wrist. 

"You don't want to touch me,Mister."He thought he heard her say. 

"Hey,bub,get your fucking hands off her,"he shouted,and as the grey demon looked over his lumpy shoulder at him,Logan held out his other fist and popped his claws right in his ugly,mottled face.It wasn't  close enough to plunge right through,but only by a half inch or so. 

It got the desired reaction.It flinched and let Rogue go,quickly backing off with his gnarled,claw like hands raised in supplication."Okay,friend,you want her that bad she's yours." 

He kept an eye on the thing until it disappeared in the crowd-hadn't he seen an ugly mother like that before in L.A.?-stepping between it and Rogue until he was confident enough to turn his back on them and face her."What the f...hell are you doing here?"He exclaimed angrily,belatedly censoring his language.Technically it was too late,but maybe the music was so loud she didn't hear."I thought you had been evacuated with the rest of the school." 

Rogue pouted,looking petulant in a way only teenagers could accomplish without feeling or looking like a total dork."I had been,but I can help.I'm not completely helpless,you know." 

"That isn't the point,"Scott said,coming up to stand beside him,in full stentorian mode."This is dangerous-you shouldn't be here." 

"I can help,"she insisted again,growing even more petulant. 

"Just another demon people,"Bob announced,standing right behind him."Just ignore us and move on." 

Rogue's wide blue eyes shot a harsh glance towards Bob."Demon?Hey,I'm not a demon!What are you,some religious nut?" 

"How'd you get here,anyway?"Logan asked her,both drawing attention away from Bob and getting to the point. 

She lost the pouty look and raised her chin,trying to assume an air of pained dignity,but didn't quite pull it off."I borrowed a car." 

"From who?"Scott asked. 

Logan read between the lines,and frowned at her."You stole one,didn't you?" 

"No,I borrowed it,"she insisted."I wasn't going to keep it." 

"Rogue,"Scott snapped,sounding like an uptight father about to flip his lid."You know better than to break the law." 

"But I-" 

"I don't want to hear it.There is no excuse for that." 

"Yes there is,"Logan countered."Sometimes.They like to use the laws to bludgeon us when they can." 

Scott looked at him,his lips so thin it looked as if they had disappeared entirely,and if he could actually see his eyes,he bet he'd be glaring at him."At least I know where she got it from." 

"Hey,"Rogue exclaimed angrily."Don't blame him!Why are you always blamin' him for everything?" 

He looked at Scott curiously."You blame me for everything?" 


	6. Part 6

"Uh,look,hate to interrupt the group therapy session,but we have a person who might be getting away,so can we go?"Bob interjected,then gave Rogue a charming smile."Hello,my dear.I'm Bob,and that green woman over there is Helga.I'd shake your hand,but I think you and I should avoid touching even while you're covered up,because I don't want to accidentally kill you." 

She arched an eyebrow at him."What power do you have?" 

"It's extremely vague,"Scott noted darkly. 

Logan wondered why Bob would think he would hurt Rogue,but considering what he said would happen to Legion if it touched him,he could see some uncomfortable paralells.Bob couldn't touch the Professor either,or any strong telepath-no wonder he smelled like electricity."Yeah,let's go,"Logan agreed."We'll argue about this later." 

"This is not over,"Scott scolded Rogue,giving her a final deadly frown before turning away.Rogue scowled at his back,and Logan was sort of surprised she didn't stick her tongue out at him. 

"Stick by me,kid,"he said grudgingly."The characters in this place are pretty shifty." 

"They're pretty ugly,"she said,instantly falling into step beside him.He heard her jingle slightly,and he noticed,just under the fabric of her black and red baseball shirt,was a small rectangle of a pendant around her neck. 

Not a necklace-his dogtags. 

Well,Jean had said she was 'taken' with him.He looked away to roll his eyes so she didn't notice.He really hoped she'd have grown out of that while he was gone,or at least found a boy at school to shift it towards and leave him out of it.Oh well,teenage hormones-she probably couldn't help it."What,is this some kind of pre-Halloween party or something?"She went on,looking at all the demons around them.She seemed to be almost hiding behind him,which was probably for the best. 

"Or something,"he agreed,as they caught up to Bob. 

Bob gave him a small,tight smile,and said,"Do you mind leading on from here,MacDuff?" 

"Can the Shakespeare,"he replied,then concentrated on the scent once more.In spite of Rogue-another human scent-close by, he was able to shove that aside and find the other,and he retracted his claws before shoving his way through the crowd.He'd only start slicing and dicing if he had to,because hell,were they outnumbered. 

The closer he got to the source of the scent,the more he realized there was something wrong with it.Bob,walking abreast on the other side of him,must have noticed the look on his face,because he asked,"What is it?" 

"It's too clean,"He said,then explained,"There's a human baseline scent,and then more-the personalization of it.Their body chemistry,where they've been,what chemicals they're wearing-" 

"Chemicals?"Rogue asked. 

"Perfume,deodorant,hair spray,make up,"he said impatiently."Everybody has their own scent,beyond just human.But this is plain,generic human." 

"So?Not a big fan of chemicals,"Scott replied,still sounding pissy. 

"He's also never eaten in his life,or had a drink,and by the way,there's no gender,'cause I ain't picking up pheromones either." 

"Hmm,"Bob said quietly."I bet we're dealing with a Kyrin." 

"What's a Kyrin?"Logan asked. 

"Shapeshifting demon.They can shift perfectly into all sorts of humanoid forms,right down to the scents.But,having said that, that's all they're good for-as demons go,they're pretty weak.Their only real talent is impersonation and fraud.Team 'em up with a good Belial and you have con men par excellence." 

"So that's how it can be in here and not be eaten-it's really a demon." 

"Why do you all keep goin' on about demons?"Rogue wondered. 

"They're insane,"Scott interjected,possibly trying to be funny (it was hard to say with him). 

"Demons just a name for another species of humanoids,who aren't ...well,human.I'm one."Bob explained. 

"Oh,"she said,looking as if she wasn't sure if he was pulling her leg or not."So not mutants?" 

"No.Mutant or not,you're still human." 

"Tell the normal people that,"Logan grumbled.  
Bob grimaced in sympathy,even as he gave him a helpless shrug."People believe what they want,and they fear what they don't understand." 

"They're morons,"Logan went on,feeling a surge of old anger. 

"Not all of them,"Scott said,although he didn't even sound convinced of that. 

"Just most of them,"Rogue added. 

Weren't they a jaded bunch? 

Logan moved on,shoving his way through the noisy,smelling,and generally uncooperative crowd towards the back,and it was then he noticed the back of the club had been partitioned off with a dark green scrim,not quite opaque enough to keep them from seeing their shadows,which he seriously hoped were distorted due to the material that made up the scrim.Otherwise,there had to be some big,misshapen motherfuckers behind there,and Rogue shouldn't be anywhere near them.He wasn't sure anyone save for Bob and Helga should be anywhere near them. 

"You can smell human pheromones?"Bob commented conversationally."I'm impressed.Do emotions have a smell?" 

"Yeah." 

"What about lies?Can you smell when people are lying?" 

"Only if there's emotions attached to 'em-fear,anxiety,anger." 

"Cool.Who needs a telepath when they got you,huh?"Bob said,clapping him on the shoulder.Logan scowled at him,but Bob didn't seem to notice.Even if he meant it in a friendly manner,which obviously he did,Logan just didn't like being touched. 

There was a large rectangular opening in the center of the scrim,maybe nine feet by nine feet,and the pseudo-human smell was definitely emanating from back there...as were some more putrid odors,like rotting flesh and decomposing matter,blood and shit and sour sweat,and a vinegary stink that could only be fear. 

He paused before going in,and everyone else did as well. 

"What's the problem?"Bob asked,tensing almost imperceptibly. 

Maybe it was just a coincidence;in fact,it had to be a coincidence.But what an ironic time for A Perfect Circle to start pounding through the sound system. 

He wondered if being fucked around by telepaths had unexpected side effects. 

Fists clenched at his sides,ready to unsheath his claws on a microsecond's notice,he told Rogue to get behind him and went through the entryway,braced for the absolute worst. 

    12 

    Behind the scrim was a narrow,dark corridor, with four doors on either side.The stench seemed to be emanating from all with the same intensity,but that pseudo-human smell was coming from only one-the fourth door on the left.He signaled that to Bob with his eyes,who nodded in understanding,and Helga's tail lashed the air so quickly there was a small whip cracking noise that made Rogue jump slightly and put her hand on his back,as if she had almost grabbed him for protection.He still wished-now more than ever-that she wasn't here at all.He had a feeling this was going to be ugly,and there were some things a kid just shouldn't see. 

After looking at Bob to make sure he was ready (Helga was always ready,and he didn't really give a shit about Scott one way or the other),he positioned himself so he was hopefully blocking Rogue's view as he violently shoved open the door and stormed in before he could give anyone a chance to recover. 

Several demony looking things jumped to their feet from where they were sitting,which was apparently around a large green felt covered poker table,and while the cards looked real,it wasn't money on the table.It looked like a small pile of offal:mostly hearts,but a couple of livers,and maybe a kidney or two. 

Rogue made a slight gagging sound behind him,and asked,"Are those..?" 

"Animal parts,"Logan lied.They smelled human-and fresh-but he wasn't going to tell her that. 

The five demons who had stood up from the table all looked vaguely alike-like lizards with legs,most were covered with brown scales,but some were covered with greenish grey one,and all had bald heads,red eyes as big as tangerines,and the general musculature of steroided up linebackers for the Oakland Raiders,which their expensive suits only seemed to accentuate.  
There was a sixth man at the table-the pseudo-human.Remaining seated,he slowly put down his cards face down on the table,and looked at them all with a tired,insincere smile.With his thinning brown hair,slight build,and pale complexion,he didn't remind Logan of anything so much as a German businessman on holiday."I take it you're not here to play seven card stud." 

"Ah shit,"Bob cursed quietly."Ressik demons."From his tone of voice,Logan guessed these were some of those rare immune guys he was talking about. 

"I think they're the mutants Krek told us about,"one of the Ressiks (?) hissed.If a snake could talk,it would probably sound exactly like that.He reached into his jacket,possibly for a weapon,but before Logan could move he felt energy sizzle past him in the air,and a red bolt hit the Ressik square in the chest.He went flying backward into the far wall before collapsing onto the floor like a sack full of shit.Scott was certainly quick on the draw-he bet Jean didn't like that. 

"Hold up,"Logan said,venturing deeper into the room.The other Ressiks looked like they were thinking about going for their weapons,but were so torn about whether to do so,and whether to aim them at him,Scott,or both,that they were paralyzed by mass indecision."Who the hell is Krek,and why did he mention us?"He stalked towards the pseudo-human,fists still clenched, the corner of his eyes on the big lizard demons. 

The businessman guy was still sitting,still looking unconcerned,but it was a lie-Logan was starting to smell something from him now,a sharp,sour scent that had to be fear.If he was the demon Bob said he was,he had almost no power at all. 

"You don't think I'm really going to tell you-"he began,but stopped,staring like a deer caught in the high beams of a tractor trailer.But the look was not aimed at him. 

Glancing over his shoulder,he saw Bob was in the doorway,full on the pseudo-human with those unreal blue eyes of his. "No,you're going to tell me,"Bob said forcefully. 

"Ah fuck,Belial demon,"one of the Ressiks snapped,adding a word that may not have been a word at all:"Drai'shajan."And all at once hell broke loose. 

The Ressiks attempted to draw their weapons as one-all targeting Bob (what the hell was a 'dray-whatever the fuck?)-and the room lit up in flashes of crimson as Scott shot the ones in his line of sight with his optic beams,and Logan attacked the one nearest him,grabbing his thick arm and breaking it with a single violent twist,and before he could mutter a scream or the equivalent noise (whatever the hell noise they made),he threw a sharp elbow into its flat,reptilian face,feeling something snap on impact. 

More Ressiks started pouring in from another room-apparently through a door at the back,hidden in shadows-and while Scott took out quite a few of them (his beams didn't work against Legion,but they worked against Ressiks),there was this massive dull thud out in the hall,a noise of flesh hitting flesh with bullet train force,and he was pretty sure he heard a painful grunt that could only have come from Scott,and suddenly there were no more flashes of red light:Logan's guess was he got massively clobbered from behind.A good guess,as more Ressiks were now pouring in from the doorway too. 

Bob was fighting his away across the room to the Kyrin,who was still sitting frozen at the poker table,and at least he could fight-but was that ever in doubt?He was Australian,for Christ's sake.He'd better know how to fight. 

From the sounds of cracking necks out in the hall,and the occasional thud against the wall and body flying past the opening, Helga was holding her own in the corridor,slowing the incoming tide of demons. 

Logan had yet to pop his claws-so far there was no need.A thick,meaty arm grabbed him from behind by throat,but Logan simply grasped his arm and tossed him over his shoulder,throwing the demon back first onto the poker table,which instantly collapsed under his sudden weight.In spite of the crushed organs that suddenly splattered his face,the Kyrin remained sitting in his chair,paralyzed by Bob. 

Another Ressik snuck around on his left,and as Logan turned,the demon pulled his gun and shot him in the face.The bullet hit his cheek and zinged off the adamantium beneath the flesh-he saw the flash of a spark on contact as the bullet ricocheted off-the force of the shot making him stagger back a couple of steps,but he glared at the Ressik,who gaped in shock and looked a lot like a frog.He must have seen the metal underneath before his skin healed over,because he asked,"What the fuck are you?A robot?" 

Logan didn't answer-he simply spun into a kick that caught him flush in his ugly face and sent him crashing down on top of his friend on the ruined table,sending his gun flying across the room.He caught a blur out of the corner of his eye,another Ressik charging him,and spun around,hitting him in the face with his hands clenched together into one big fist.It got him at just the right angle,and the bastard went flying into the wall. 

It was then he heard Rogue scream. 

A Ressik had her by the hair and was dragging her towards the back of the room.Logan bellowed in rage as he launched himself at the demon in a wide open tackle,popping the claws of his left hand at the last second.Rather than grab him,his claws punched through the side of the Ressik's skull,and nailed him to the wall. 

He made a strange gasping noise,briefly sounding like a balloon losing air from a slow leak,and his body was seized by a paroxysm of tremors as Rogue pulled out of his grasp,still wide eyed and reeking of fear.Only when she was free did Logan retract his claws,and even though the demon was still apparently conscious and gasping like a fish out of water,he sagged to the floor,glassy eyed and useless. 

He saw the fear in Rogue's eyes a millisecond before a hand like a steel claw grabbed him by the neck and lifted him off the floor.The hand attempted to crush the small bones of his neck,and he heard them creak under the strain,but the Ressik wasn't strong enough to break adamantium,so only muscles stretched and tendons tore before the Ressik tossed him across the room like he weighed nothing more than a bag of garbage. 

He thought he heard Rogue scream his name as he met the top of the wall face first,nose shattering on impact and pain flaring bright white in his vision as he fell hard to the wooden floor.His vision wavered like a mirage,but even as he choked down the gout of his own blood that spurted down his throat,he could feel the cartilage in his nose knitting itself back together,the feeling of it monstrously itchy and almost more painful than shattering of his nose previously.The Ressik-the biggest one he had seen so far,nearly scraping the ceiling at seven feet high,his scales as bronze as a new penny-loomed over him,pointing a gun down at his face."Tell me,will your eye grow back?" The Ressik snarled,shifting his aim to over his left eye. 

Before he could pop his claws and move,the Ressik started trembling like someone had jammed a live wire up his ass,and tried to scream,but just made a sort of croaking noise. 

Rogue had ripped off one of her gloves,and grabbed the Ressik by the  arm, over a tear in his sleeve. 

Logan jumped to his feet,turning his head briefly from side to side as his tendons knitted back together-again,almost as painful as the initial tearing-and Rogue had let go of the Ressik,who hit the floor instantaneously,nearly drained of everything he had. Logan would be shocked if he were still alive. 

He did a double take when he saw Rogue. 

Her eyes were completely crimson,just like the Ressik's had been,and she had faint bronze scales on her neck and jawline like ghostly tattoos,and before he could tell her another demon was coming up behind her,she turned and slammed him across the face with her fist,a blow that sent the much larger Ressik flying all the way across the room.She had the strength of a Ressik now.He felt like laughing-that evened the odds a bit. 

Bob grabbed a Ressik from behind and snapped its neck with a single twist,then finally grabbed the Kyrin,who obediently got up and retreated to a  far corner with him,to talk in relative safety as the fight raged on,but the tide of battle had turned.Helga was now in the doorway,easily beating back the few Ressiks in the hall,and he and the newly strengthened Rogue were easily kicking the asses of the few standing Ressiks still inside.There didn't seem to be any more coming through the door at that back of the room.Soon,a burst of red light out in the corridor showed that Scott was back,alive,kicking,and shooting. 

Outnumbered or not,they could really kick some serious ass.Logan knew he shouldn't tell anyone,but he thought it had actually been kind of fun.From the fierce grin Helga gave him,in spite of the green blood staining her teeth,she felt the same way.She was his kind of woman. 

Bad guys vanquished-well,for the moment-they regrouped.Scott leaned against the door jamb,a thin line of blood streaming down the side of his face,and he said what had to be the understatement of the year:'Those guys are strong." 

Logan stared at him in disbelief."Thanks for the newsflash,Cyke." 

He scowled at him,and looked like he was trying to formulate a comeback,when he noticed Rogue."Marie?"He said, shocked,straightening up. 

"She absorbed one of 'em." 

It seemed to take Rogue a moment to remember to speak."Things look really weird."She then started to feel her face,and luckily,she missed the scales."I don't look like one,do I?" 

"No,darlin',you look like you,"Logan reassured her."Just with a different eye color.And also,uh...thanks." 

"What for?You saved my ass,"she said,and Scott scowled at her,probably for her use of language (oh,like ass was really that bad a word.He must have been raised by Baptists or something).After a moment,she added,"I have an almost overwhelming urge to just start breaking shit." 

Logan couldn't help but smirk."Welcome to my world." 

She smiled back,but it was a little more malevolent than he would normally expect from her;the blood red eyes didn't help matters much either."It's kinda fun." 

Ah shit,did that mean he had personality traits similar to Ressik demons?He really was going to have to kill himself now. 

In the corner,German businessman demon hit the floor as Bob turned away,looking grim."So,what's the news?"Logan wondered. 

Bob grimaced."This Krek is a professional hit man who works with some kind of organization called The League.All Cyril could tell me is no one fucks with The League and lives to talk about it-bad news with a capital B." 

"Cyril?"Logan repeated in disbelief."His name is Cyril?" 

Bob shrugged."Again,cool names some people don't have." 

"This League are after us?"Scott asked. 

"If Krek is,it's a safe bet he's working for their interests." 

"Why are they after us?"Rogue asked."What did we ever do to them?" 

"Wrong question,"Logan told her."What did Xavier ever do to them?" 

"Huh?"She replied,then turned her gaze on Bob."The Professor's involved?" 

Bob scowled at him,not appreciating him letting the cat out of the bag as far as that was concerned."The Professor,as far as I know,knows nothing of this League.It's a personal vendetta,and they've simply been recruited for the dirty work." 

"A personal vendetta?"Logan asked."Why?What for?What did he do?" 

Bob frowned."He did nothing except piss them off by association.I think it's a guy named Magneto they actually want,but they're afraid of him,and probably for good reason.If they can get Xavier,they'll be more confident they can get Magneto." 

"Magneto is in this too?"Scott exclaimed,looking like he had officially reached the end of his particular tether."Doesn't he know when he's beaten?" 

"He wasn't a bad guy,not then,"Bob said cryptically."I'd say Xavier owes his life to him,and he knows it.The real bad guy in this scenario wants them both dead." 

"Well,he can have Magneto,"Logan interrupted."But who exactly is the real bad guy in this scenario?I know you know,so don't dick us around anymore." 

"I'm not completely sure,"Bob replied. 

Logan slammed his elbow back against the wall in frustration,so hard it went right through it."Cut the fucking bullshit,Bob!" He snapped,pulling his elbow free of the wall.He felt where the jagged wood had torn into his skin,and even as the blood flowed down his arm,he felt the skin healing over. 

"It's not bullshit,Logan,"Bob snapped back,as close to angry as he ever got."I have several pieces of a puzzle that don't quite fit,but no one's lied to me,so I don't know what I've got here.I can tell you this-almost fifty years ago,someone tried to kill your Professor,but Magneto unequivocably killed him first.What Magneto didn't know,but Xavier did,is that what he killed was not a man at all but a demon,type unknown.Since I don't know the type,it's very possible it eventually came back,in spite of what Magneto did to it." 

"What did Magneto do to it?"Scott asked first. 

Bob carefully considered his words,and then glanced at Rogue before saying,"Let's just say he helped liberate its brain from the confines of its skull." 

"Eew,"Rogue said,almost sounding like her old self.But she still didn't look it yet. 

"Then it can't be alive to be behind all this,can it?"Scott argued,not only standing up straight but looking really impatient now.He could join the fucking club. 

Bob gave them all a look that seemed strangely full of something like pity."Never say never.But when it comes down to it,it's possible somebody-not the demon in question-wants revenge for that death.Either scenario could work here." 

"But why now?Why fifty years after the fact?"Logan asked insistently,not willing to give up so easily. 

Bob threw his hands wide in a helpless shrug."I don't know." 

Both he and Scott made similar noise of disbelief,which was equally disconcerting to both of them. 

"Truth be told,this may not even be the incident driving all of this,"Bob went on."It was Xavier's best guess,since that was the last time he encountered a non-human in a negative circumstance." 

"He's encountered them since?"Scott asked,sounding confused. 

A Ressik on the floor stirred,and tried to push himself up,but Logan kicked him in the face,so hard he flipped over and slammed down hard on his back,out cold again,but only for the moment.There were a couple of Ressiks stirring,groaning in pain,and there would probably be a part two fight soon,although the Ressiks would definitely be at a disadvantage this time. 

"We should continue  this argument elsewhere,"Bob suggested. 

"Great,but what are we going to do about this place?"Logan said. 

"What about this place?"Scott replied testily. 

"According to Cyril,this is one of the League's tax dodges,"Bob said,apropos of nothing.Or was it? 

"We can't leave this place standing,"Logan argued,but only to Scott.He figured Helga,Bob,and Rogue-now that she was all Ressiky-would go along with it,but Scott-as always-was the wet blanket.It had to be a pain in the over tight sphincter being him."Especially if it is League." 

"What would you have us do,Logan?"He snapped bitterly."Tear it down?" 

"Absolutely." 

He scoffed in disbelief."Oh,what a brilliant idea,Logan.Let's go one up from car theft and commit a major felony-" 

"You wanna talk major felonies?"Logan spat,getting right up in his face.He hoped Rogue didn't hear,but if she did,oh well. "You don't actually think those were cow organs,do you?And do you want to know what I'm smelling back here? Humans, Scott,dozens of them-but unless they don't need their heart,ten to one says they're dead."He then added,in a savage whisper he knew no one else could hear,"These are fresh kills too.I think they keep the older ones in the freezer.Shall we go see? Wanna come with me and have a look at what's behind doors number one,two,and three?" 

Logan didn't really realize until he met Scott how much human expression was read in the eyes:with that visor over his face, Scott seemed to have exactly three expressions-smiling,not smiling,scowling.And the differences were far more subtle than you'd think. 

Right now,he was scowling at him,a muscle in his jaw jumping like it was trying to break through his skin,and Logan only knew he was angry:at him,at himself,or at the demons it was impossible to say. 

"If something happens here,the League will have a real reason to kill us all then,"Scott finally said,but it sounded as if he was trying to talk himself out of something. 

"Yes,"Bob said,then added,"It is a brilliant idea,Logan." 

Everybody turned to look at Bob.He wasn't being sarcastic in the least. 

"Are you out of your mind?"Scott exclaimed. 

"Think about it-we take out a piece of their property.We say "We're here,we're X Men,don't fuck with us".That will fuck off the League so much they will get angry-and probably sloppy-but,best of all,now that the battle's been taken to them,no more skulking." 

"We flush 'em out into the open,"Logan agreed,seeing his logic. 

"And best of all,this League will only think they're dealin' with mutants,"Bob added,giving Helga a conspiratorial wink. 

Scott swallowed hard,the veins cording on his neck."I don't kill people.I don't care what they are." 

Logan wondered if he should mention that since he put Sabertooth through the side of the Statue of Liberty's head,no one had heard from him,but decided now was not the time.Besides,he hoped that reeking,ugly psychopath was dead-he deserved no less then to be the meal of several different fishes and bottom dwellers. 

"We'll give them a warning to evacuate,"Bob offered reasonably."But I don't expect them to take us seriously until the walls start caving in." 

"They won't take us seriously,huh?"Scott said,and his neck veins were standing out like cables,his skin starting to flush red, and Logan realized he'd never seen him this close to losing it ever.Scott stepped out of the doorway,and pivoted on his heels towards the end of the hall,almost instantly letting out a huge red blast of energy that made the club shake,followed by a small,hollow boom.Considering the sudden burst of relatively fresh air into this charnel house,Logan guessed Scott just blew out the entire back wall."Think they'll take us seriously now?"Scott asked,that muscle in his jaw continuing to spasm like a snake beneath his skin. 

Bob smiled broadly,chuckling slightly."I certainly think you've got their attention,mate." 

Logan was almost impressed-the Boy Scout actually did have a pair of cajones hiding in his pants.Who'd have guessed? 

They walked back out to the front of the club to find a good chunk of the crowd had left,but many were still there,trying to act blase about the fact that there had been a big fight in the back,and a subsequent explosion.Maybe it happened here all the time. 

But today was the last time. 

Now something by Korn was thudding through the sound system,and as Bob climbed up on a table,he said,"Scott,a little attention getter?"He then pointed up at the ceiling near the front of the club.Scott nodded,and let loose with a red beam that blew a Cadillac sized hole in the metal roof of the club. 

There were several screams and lots of scrambling as twisted pieces of metal rained down from the ceiling,and Korn was reduced to a plodding drone in the background.Bob announced,"Sorry,old chaps,but this building's been targeted for demolition,effective immediately.If you'd rather not be turned into demon pate,I suggest getting out while the getting's good." 

Logan vaulted one handed over the chrome plated bar,and as soon as he landed,he glared at the blue skinned bartender."It's my bar now." 

"Oh,you betcha,"the demon agreed,quickly scrambling over the bar and hightailing it,the captain of this particular ship bailing without a fight. 

He found a bottle of high proof vodka,which he knocked the cap off of and had a swig before turning back to the bar,to find Helga standing on the other side,smiling at him.She held out a hand,and said,"Give me a drink,Hairy." 

"That's not my name,"he commented,handing her the vodka bottle. 

"I don't care what your name is,as long as you look good naked."She retorted,before having a swig. 

He smirked at her,then jerked his head towards Bob,still standing on the table."What about your boyfriend?" 

"He can get his own dates,"she said brightly,giving his a seductive smile as she lobbed the vodka bottle over her shoulder. 

He started handing her bottles and she started tossing them all over the club,the glass shattering and spraying alcohol over the place,which was the point.Occasionally she lobbed a bottle at Bob with her tail,and he caught it and had a sample before tossing them towards the scrim and the back rooms.Rogue,meanwhile,was randomly breaking tables and flinging chairs against the remaining walls hard enough to shatter them into kindling.There was no reason for her to do that-Scott had,in fact,told her to stay with Bob for safety-but he figured she was working out some of that Ressik "breaking shit" urge,and he thought that was a good thing.After all,when they got back to the mansion,Jean was bound to be mighty pissed that Rogue got in on this,nonetheless absorbed a demon.That was one potential girl fight that could get extremely ugly if Rogue had any Ressik left in her. 

Scott continued to take out parts of the ceiling and the right side wall,and by now the place was remarkably empty,which was hardly a surprise.Logan was surprised any lingered for this long. 

Figuring there was enough combustibles spread around,he simply raked the remaining bottles behind him with his claws, shattering them all,and then dug a cigar butt out of his coat pocket and lit it up as he hopped back over the bar.It no longer smelled like demons and death in this Swiss cheese shell of a building:it just reeked of booze,like a wino convention, only with less of a urine undertone. 

"We done here?"He asked,moving the cigar butt around to the corner of his mouth. 

Bob nodded,hopping off the lone intact table."I'd say so." 

Scott nodded,done shooting beams out of his visor,and more in control of himself by the looks of it.Helga's tail snaked around Logan's waist,but this time she didn't grab his ass,and he didn't rip it off.Rogue,meanwhile,found another table to put her fist through. 

"Rogue?"He asked. 

She looked up somewhat startled,as if he had shouted her name rather than simply say it conversationally."Huh?Oh yeah,done." 

"Okay,let's saddle up and blow this shit hole,"He said,earning another evil frown from Scott.But he rather liked that-it was kind of funny to see the Boy Scout get his panties in a bunch. 

For sheer novelty's sake they headed out  what remained of the door,with Logan (and Helga) hanging back,so they were the last ones out.Stopping on the sidewalk in front of the place,Helga asked,"May I?"She then held up her fingers,indicating his cigar. 

He took a final puff,and handed it to her."Knock yourself out." 

She took a couple of quick puffs off the cigar butt herself before tossing it inside the remains of the Seventh Circle,and they heard a soft whump of ignition as they got in the car. 

** 

    Tony was sure he heard something-a small distant thud-but was completely unprepared when a red beam of light shot through the roof of the bar-taking a good third of the roof with it-two minutes later. 

"Holy fucking Christ!"Kelso exclaimed in shock."What the fuck was that?!Does somebody have a goddamn death ray in there?!" 

Although shocked himself,it finally reminded him what that Scott guy did."Nah,it's that fucking mutant." 


	7. Part 7

Patrons who could flee out the front door (and into light) did so,and more red beams began punching through different parts of the structure,although Tony couldn't help but note he was avoiding the load bearing walls so he wouldn't bring the entire club down on their heads. 

"What the fuck are they doing?"Reddick hissed,now buzzing like an angry wasp. 

Tony chuckled to himself,although it was far from funny.In fact,it was a nightmare."They're taking it down.They're knockin' down the club." 

"Why the fuck would they do that?"Kelso asked,still staring in slack jawed horror at the former warehouse,and now almost former club. 

"It's a calling card,"Reddick answered bitterly,obviously getting it."They're spitting in the face of the League.Fucking mutants." 

"They gotta be the stupidest muties ever,or they got brass balls that just won't quit,"Tony said,still chuckling mirthlessly at the sight of the club being blasted to pieces from the inside out. 

Finally,the mutants came out of the bar,and that stupid little girl they saw sneak into the club after them was with them-only now her eyes were blood red,and she had some rudimentary bronze scales on her neck and chin-really a demon?Not so stupid,then. 

Muscles came out last,with the Stansin demon right behind him,and after a brief exchange,she took his cigar and tossed it in what remained of the building.They had gotten in the car and just driven off when the interior of the Seventh Circle started glowing with its own interior light:it was on fire,black smoke pouring from where there had once been a ceiling. 

"They'll pay for that,"Reddick hissed angrily,his buzzing almost a razor sharp keen by now. 

Tony was sure he had seen Muscles before-something about the hairy brute looked real familiar.Maybe the League had him on file somewhere-he'd find out. 

"They're dead men walkin',"Tony reassured him,as he started the car. 

They were so dead it was almost funny. 

    13 

    Once back at the mansion,Helga indicated she wanted a tour of the place,grabbing his arm fiercely and giving him a look that suggested she didn't mean at all. 

Logan agreed,and left Rogue to fight with Scott over what to do about her car thievery-Bob was there to mediate,and surely would work something out. 

He was still pumped full of adrenaline-that fight had just barely whet his appetite for action-and from the vibe and pheromones he was getting off of Helga,she felt exactly the same way. 

They were barely half way down the hall when she tackled him. 

She quite literally jumped on him:she planted her mouth over his and wrapped her legs around his hips,nearly knocking him over with the sheer force of her smashing into him. 

In fact,she must have opened the door he crashed back into with her tail,because suddenly he was stumbling back inside, fighting to both breathe and keep his balance.The back of his legs hit something and he fell backwards,but luckily it was a bed,so he didn't crack his head open. 

Finally letting up so he could breathe,she straddled his hips and smiled down at him,tail flicking against his leg."Think we're going to get a real chance to kick some ass soon?" 

"We'd better."He realized he didn't know whose room this was.Was it his?They all kind of looked alike if no one bothered to personalize it."But what about Bob?"It wasn't that he didn't want her-hell no-but Bob was just not the guy you wanted to piss off.He was far more of a threat than any 'League' could ever be. 

She grabbed his t-shirt and simply ripped it off,tossing the fragments of cloth aside as she grinned down at him,the smile on her deep green lips feral and almost evil,as if she really wasn't sure if she wanted to sleep with him or kill him."What about the old man?"She replied,and she leaned down to kiss him,but at the last second she bit his cheek-hard. 

He cried out as he felt her sharp teeth break his skin,and tried to throw her off,but she had wrapped her tail around his legs,so while she hit the floor he went right after her,landing right on top of her. 

"Gonna punish me,Logan?"She cooed smiling,licking his blood off her teeth. 

"You're sick,"he gasped,as he felt her tail snake between his legs and tug at the back of his jeans. 

She was sick,and Bob's girlfriend,but damn it if something about her didn't drive him crazy.Growling low in the back of his throat,he kissed her hard,and she dug her claw like green fingernails into his back as her tail wrapped around his thigh,clinging so tightly it almost cut off blood circulation.But just almost. 

It was amazing how quickly they both forgot about Bob. 

** 

    As soon as a grumbling Scott went off to give the police an anonymous tip over the phone about the location of the stolen car,Rogue headed off to the kitchen and Bob followed her,only partially to keep an eye on her in her current state. 

"Are you gonna give me a lecture too?"She wondered,as soon as they entered the well lit,cavernous kitchen. 

It had to be big to feed everyone on the grounds,and it was-Bob had never seen such large stainless steel refrigerators before in his life.They were like walk in meat lockers. 

"No,I think you've been punished enough,"he admitted,noting that all potentially reflective surfaces,including the metal bodies of the refrigerators,had been scuffed until they were no longer reflective at all.Why?Were some mutants so sensitive about their appearance that they would rather not see themselves until they were prepared to do so? 

"Don't remind me,"she groaned dramatically.Scott had told her as soon as school was back in session,she'd be doing extra work focusing on the law and ethics-frankly,the idea scared the shit out of Bob.The poor girl would need an i.v. full of No Doze..She got a soda out of one of the smaller fridges,and said,with great hope,"Maybe there won't be a school anymore." 

"I wouldn't count on that." 

She shrugged as she opened the can and leaned against the refrigerator door facing him (maybe there was a vampire at this school...but there were so many windows...)."So why are you following me?" 

"I just wanted to tell ya you should probably avoid absorbing demons from now on.You got lucky today,but next time you might not." 

"How'd I get lucky?"She asked."You wanna know how these guys think?"She shuddered,and he didn't think it was an act."He was actually thinking about eatin' our eyeballs." 

"You got lucky because you did manifest their strength-homicidal urges not so much-and there were no negative side effects. You most likely won't get the powers of the next demon you grab.In fact,they might get you." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Psychic demons.They could invade your mind,and your power being what it is,it would be difficult to get them to leave." 

"What do psychic demons look like?"She wondered.She wasn't at all put off by his warning:in fact,she probably viewed this all as a big lark.No wonder she liked Logan;she had a sense of his own feeling of invincibility.Maybe she'd absorbed him once too often. 

"Anything.Some exist in host bodies,so you'd never realized you got one until it was too late." 

"Are you a psychic demon?"She wondered,a mischievous twinkle in her still Ressik red eyes. 

"No.That doesn't even begin to cover what I do." 

"But you're something like that,right?I mean,you just talked to that guy and he just froze.Even when Logan splattered those guts all over him he didn't move;it was like he was paralyzed by the sound of your voice.The Ressiks knew that too."She had a sip of her drink,then added,"Logan told me in the car you messed with people's heads,but you weren't a telepath.What does that leave?" 

"A lot,"he replied cryptically. 

There were pans hanging around an eave over a butcher block island in the center of the kitchen,and belatedly he realized several had reflective surfaces.She must have caught a glimpse of herself in one because she began walking towards them curiously,although her spine stiffened in such a way that she was obviously shocked by what she thought she saw. 

As she neared,he assured her,"You look fine." 

When she looked into a large aluminum skillet,her eyes were blue once more,and the scales were gone:she was back to looking like a normal teenaged girl."That's really weird,"she began,idly tracing a hand down her throat."I thought I saw..." 

"What?"He asked innocently. 

She frowned at her own image in the big silver pan,and asked,"Did I just have red eyes and somethin' on my face just a moment ago?" 

"Red eyes,yes,but they've been fading since we left the club,"he lied shamelessly.But he knew he was very good at it,and she would never know."And I didn't notice anything on your face." 

She scowled at her own reflection,believing him over her own eyes-which was typical when it came to his suggestions. "Huh.I guess having one in my head is more of a pain than I thought." 

"Ressiks are pretty foul.I consider myself lucky not to have access to their minds." 

She nodded,seeing the wisdom in that."But it's so weird...I don't understand most of it.Just the urges,mostly."  
"To break things?" 

"Yeah.And hurt people,bad..."She looked away from both her reflection and him,glancing instead at one of the high oak cupboards lining the right side wall."I really wanted to start killing them.I've never felt that way before." 

"Never?" 

She paused,but didn't dare look back at him.She stiffened so much it was as if her spine had been suddenly fused to a broom handle."What,you think I'm lyin'?" 

"I think you reined the impulse in too well for that to have been your first time experiencing them.And I know Ressiks well enough to know they're intensely psychotic."He thought he knew the answer,actually,he just wondered if she knew it. 

She made herself move,open the cupboard and pretend to look for something to eat."Yeah,they're pretty wiggy." 

He waited as she pretended to search for a mysterious edible something among all the other edibles,and finally,she asked. "How well do you know Logan?" 

"Well enough to know there's a dark part of him that would love to kill,but he doesn't indulge in it."Much would have been honest,but he decided not to share that with her.It wouldn't be helpful."You still remember that part,I guess." 

She glanced over her shoulder at him,nodded,letting the cupboard door fall shut."Yeah.For a moment,I thought I was gonna lose it,and I thought it would be fun to lose it ,you know?With the Ressik in control I got a rush off hurtin' 'em...but it was like this residual Logan part kicked in.I knew if I ran with it I'd probably regret it later."Her lips twisted in anguish,but her eyes shown with something between avarice and lust."But I really wanted to." 

He nodded in understanding.Probably the only people around here who could understand that desire was him and Logan (Helga never really saw the point in holding back)."It's okay to want to,Rogue.The only problem is when you start to do it." 

"Could you do it?" 

"What? Kill people?" 

She nodded,her eyes still shining with that dark hunger,the lingering Ressik that would probably bury itself in her subconscious.Luckily,Logan was buried in there too,and would surely help her beat it down."By talkin' to him,like you did to that guy.Could you say 'you're dead',and have it actually happen?" 

"I could.I don't,but yes,that's always an option." 

There was a moment when she seemed to be carrying on an argument with herself in her own head,and then she asked,"How do you not do it?When you have the power to?" 

He had a feeling that,even here,Rogue felt alone and different from the other mutants around,all except Logan,and there was a reason for it beyond the fact that he was the first person to show her any genuine kindness.That reason,which maybe even Xavier hadn't figured out,was a dark,quasi-misanthropic rage buried deep inside her,a rage that Logan openly grappled with every hour of the day ( and besides,how much of that black rage was instigated by Logan's own horrific memories that she glimpsed/experienced/watched?).Fear kept her from indulging in it before,but she was no longer afraid."I've lived a long time,Marie,"he said,reverting to her given name."I've seen a lot of things.You have to forgive people-and certain demons-their basic stupidity.Remember they don't know what you do,they haven't experienced what you have,and,even if they have,some people just prefer to take their rage out on others,but that is by no means an excuse for you to indulge in it as well."He then gave her a dark,conspiratorial smile."And besides,always remember making these stupid asses continue to live with themselves is the worst thing you could ever do to them.Of all people,you should know most people dwell within their own private hells -and it is a far,far crueler thing to let them continue existing in it than to give them the release of death." 

He was standing facing her,his back to the window so the sunlight behind him created a shadow that stretched between them like an incomplete bridge,broken only by the butcher block island between them.After a moment of  the shadow of him cloaking her face,making the white streak in her hair luminous against the brown background of the rest of her hair,she smiled slowly,her evil smile mimicking his own. 

Rogue could be very dangerous if she did indeed go rogue,and yet no one talked to her about the flip side of her mutant powers:the drive to consume,annihilate,destroy.That side existed in all of them,to some degree;but,in mutants,it could take on a frightening literality.But it wasn't something that Xavier's people chose to talk about,at least not to a girl as young as her.Yet someone had to talk to her about it.If you did not acknowledge your dark side and learn to 'own' it,it could destroy you-and,in the case of mutants,everyone in the vicinity.And since Logan wasn't here,why not him?He wasn't a mutant,but he was a demon-close enough. 

After a moment,she said,"You should teach here.You'd be fun." 

"What would I teach,Subversion 101?I mean,the kids would love me,but I'd be booted out so fast by the staff my feet would never touch the ground." 

As if on cue,the kitchen door opened,and a rather dour faced Jean came in.Rogue's smile died a hasty death,and she rolled her eyes."Don't start,"she said,like a teenager to her mother. 

"I wouldn't know where to begin,"Jean replied,her voice a blade made of ice.As soon as Jean was inside the kitchen,Rogue made a quick break for the exit,leaving out the door she just entered through.Jean was out right after her,and Bob followed,just to make sure there were no brain splatters on the wall. 

"Go to your room and stay there until I say otherwise,"Jean said,to Rogue's retreating back. 

The girl spun on her heels and gawked at Jean like she had just lost her mind out her ears,and was playing with it like clay. "Huh?You're going try to ground me?You're not my-" 

Bob gestured frantically behind Rogue,running his hand across his throat in a cutting gesture and silently mouthing the words,"Just go.It will be fine,but go for now."He could have forced the issue,but he thought he had established enough of an outsider rapport with Rogue she'd accept his judgment as readily as she'd accept Logan's. 

He couldn't tell her,but he thought some of Jean's anger had absolutely nothing to do with Rogue at all. 

Rogue looked at him sternly and rolled her eyes again,but by the way her slim shoulders sagged he knew she was going to relent,and she did."Fine.I ain't got nowhere else to go anyways." 

As she stalked sulkily off down the hall,Jean wheeled on him,suspecting he was doing something,but by the time she faced him his hands were firmly clasped behind his back:he had anticipated her move before she had anticipated his.He bet that didn't happen a lot. 

"Scott told me what happened." 

"No,he showed you what happened,"Bob corrected her."You read his mind,yes?"She looked slightly taken aback,and he quickly added,"It's okay.I do that with people I know too.Showing is a lot better than clumsy words sometimes." 

"I thought you weren't a telepath." 

"I'm not,but I can still see things in other people's minds.Usually not for long,because I'm usually too much of a shock to the system.Except Logan-his healing thing even adapts to me,which is pretty cool.I usually can't get in normal people's heads for any length of time." 

"Logan qualifies as normal?"She said it before she realized it,and as soon as it fell out of her mouth her brown eyes widened in exquisite guilt. 

But he just smiled kindly,knowing it really wasn't meant as a slur against Logan;it simply revealed who she was really mad at. "I meant Humans,Jean-I usually can't get into Human minds without doing damage." 

She nodded,swallowing back some of the guilt as she ran a nervous hand through her red hair,deciding to go on as if she had never said that."Yes,I saw.And what I want to know is why you're accusing the Professor of having some part in this,and why you told Logan and he withheld the information from us." 

"Contrary to popular opinion,Logan is not dumb-he put the information together himself.He confronted me about it before we left for the club,so I don't see how he could have told anyone else about it.And I'm not accusing the Professor of anything.Ask him;he probably has no choice but to tell you now that Logan forced my hand.Not that I exactly fought him.The Professor should tell all of you,but you know how guilt can ride a person." 

Her dark brows drew down in confusion."What does the Professor have to be guilty about?" 

Bob shrugged."Complicity,I suppose.Although I'm guessing he feels like a fool,and that has to sting worst of all." 

Her painted lips curved down in a frown."Do you ever talk in a non oblique manner?" 

"Not really." 

She rolled her eyes and shook her head,looking,for a moment,just like Rogue in manner if nothing else."Where is Logan? I'll ask him." 

"Logan's...er...busy with Helga.You know,I've been meaning to have a look at your underground headquarters,maybe you could give me a brief run through-" 

But she turned and walked away. 

"Where are you going?"He asked,quickly catching up. 

"To find Logan.I don't see how he can give her a tour anyhow,he barely knows it himself-" 

Bob quickly placed himself in her path,forcing her to stop abruptly."Jean-may I call you that?-he's not exactly giving her a tour. Helga has no real interest in structures unless she gets to tear them down." 

A little knot gathered on the bridge of her nose,where her sinking brows almost met."Then where are they?" 

Bob sighed,aware this was going to go down extremely bad in the Jean Gray camp."You know,I could put this in delicate terms,but we're all adults here,right?Helga's had a thing for Logan ever since she met him-she likes us dark,kick ass types-and what Helga wants Helga always gets,one way or another.Trust me on that.And they both get worked up after a fight,you know, gotta burn off some steam-" 

"What are you saying?"She demanded,but the slightly horror struck look on her face told him she already pretty much knew. 

"You're gonna make me say it,aren't you?"He asked,slightly exasperated with her.If she could just acknowledge a few things, she wouldn't have to go through all these machinations."They're going at it like bunnies.Slightly violent bunnies. Happy now?" 

For a minute she just stared at him in open mouthed shock,like he'd just punched her grandmother in front of her.Then,when she found her voice again,she said,"Your girlfriend is...with Logan,and you don't care?" 

Now there was a silly question.Hardly worth getting her voice back for."Why should I care?They're both adults,and frankly it takes some pressure off me.Helga can get pretty wild after a fight,and at least he has that regenerational capability-I don't. Besides,I think Logan could use a good-" 

"You're insane!"She charged,stomping around him and back down the hall.But even she stopped because she didn't really know where she was going,and turned to face him,anger and jealously colliding to make her flustered."How can you just ...look the other way while your girlfriend screws around on you?" 

"Well,I'm not the type who gets off on watchin'."He knew he shouldn't have made that little joke;she probably didn't realize it, but her hair was starting to frizz out,little strands pulling away from her neat mane and fanning out,all due to the unconscious telekinetic energy that was starting to leak out from her in her anger.Emotions could make you do funny things. "Jean,it's just sex.It doesn't have to be the end of the world.Sex without commitment can be kinda fun,you know." 

"But she's your girlfriend!And I thought Logan was your friend." 

"Again,yes.Look,I'm a commitment oriented kind of guy-I'd rather not admit how many times I've been married,because I sound like Liz Taylor,although for the record I never married her.But Helga's not:love and sex are two very different things to her,and I have no problem with that.Whatever makes her happy.At the end of the day,I know she loves me,and I love her.End of story." 

She continued to glare at him,her eyes almost glowing with hate,although he knew it wasn't aimed at him.It was bad enough that she disliked Helga (well,she shouldn't have pinned her against the wall,but Helga didn't have to call her all those names);it was worse that Jean really wanted to be screwing Logan's brains out,but could hardly even admit that to herself.She didn't know what to say,or how to say it,but clearly she was appalled at their open lifestyle choice."You're..."She fumbled for words, the static electricity dying enough that her hair fell back down to almost normal."You're sick.The both of you.All of you!" 

He almost felt bad for Logan;she was really going to be giving him the absolute zero cold shoulder for a while,and she'd never tell him why.As she started storming off again,he couldn't help but say after her,"It's better to know where you stand than to love someone for all the wrong reasons." 

That made her freeze in her tracks,and slowly turn back towards him.She looked genuinely confused,and maybe just a tad threatened."What does that mean?"She demanded,but he could see in her eyes she really didn't want to know.Which was okay, because he wasn't going to tell her anyways. 

He leveled a serious look at her,wondering if she would ever really know."You'll find out,Jean.And the sooner you do the better for all parties involved." 

Her eyes widened slightly."Is that an accusation?" 

"No."It was the truth,whether she wanted to deal with it or not."Now,would you mind if I go have a look around your super-secret lab?I need to know what kind of weapons you've-" 

But she wouldn't let him change the subject."Tell me what you mean." 

"You know what I mean.Can we please just move on before this gets ugly?" 

She stared at him,the anger flaring anew,and he got a sense of what she was going to do before she did it."Freeze,"he said,and she did.It had occurred to her to drag the thoughts out of his mind,or at least try,forgetting in her anger that not only would she fail but possibly give herself a cerebral hemorrhage as well.He felt somewhat irritated at her,but hell,she was just as much a confused kid as Rogue,she just didn't know it."You will think about this later,rationally,but right now you're going to let it go, and distract yourself by showing me headquarters."He then let her go psychically,having never touched her physically."Shall we go?" 

She blinked rapidly,and for a moment looked slightly baffled,as if she knew her train of thought had been derailed but not how or why."Yes,I suppose,"she agreed warily,not quite over her anger but not consumed by it either. 

"Great,"he said,meaning it."Because I'm pretty sure the bad guys will be bringin' the party to us soon enough." 

And that was a truth even she couldn't deny. 

    14 

    On the desk before him were head shots and small bios of all of Xavier's known mutants.The pretty boy and-of course-the Stansin demon were not among them.And Muscles didn't have a bio more than he had a Post-It note with a big question mark; as far as anyone knew,he only had the one name,and his past was a big question mark. 

Well,maybe not to everyone. 

The guy who called himself Devore was standing on the balcony overlooking the new,cleaned up version of Times Square, smoking a cigarette that smelled weird,kind of like cloves and water logged tobacco,turned back to them as Black repeated, trying hard to keep shock from his voice,"Two million dollars?" 

Devore was the largest Japanese guy Tony had ever seen,and for whatever reason he wore a well tailored suit so grey it was actually silver,with a bright blue tie so vivid against his white shirt you'd think it was a joke.But there was no humor in this man's broad,intense face,and no levity in his strutting,cocky walk,every bit as assured as Muscles,but even more proud of it. The fabric of his silver jacket stretched so tight across the back of his broad,muscular shoulders you'd think it was another man's coat.Maybe it was. 

Devore's dark,almond shaped eyes scanned the room,where Kelso sat near the door of the suite and the ever hyper-kinetic Reddick didn't pace more than he lurched across the room,bouncing on the balls of his strange feet like he was engaged in a crazy dance,and Black sat draped casually over the sofa,trying to pretend the offer hadn't shocked the shit out of him. 

Devore smiled,but it was more of a leering smirk,his lips like thin,pink worms squirming on his sallow face. 

"Absolutely.Deliver us Logan alive you'll get it in cash.Of course,he has to still be breathing,but the good news is that freak can take a lot of damage and still survive." 

"Who do you work for?"Black asked,clearly sensing a set up of some sort.This was too damn good to be true. 

Tony glanced down at the surveillance photo of Muscles a/k/a Logan,and wondered what was so fucking special about him. Even if you sliced him up and sold him by the pound down in Chinatown,he'd never be worth two million. 

"He's government,"Reddick said/hummed/buzzed,his arm jerking out spasmodically towards Devore."The piece's he's wearing under his jacket is government issue." 

No one else knew he was wearing a piece. 

Kelso stiffened and seemed to go for his piece,but Devore gave him a disdainful glance that could have curdled milk."Don't even think about it." 

Tony remained sitting casually at the desk,pretending to look over the bios of the so called 'X Men',his piece resting casually in his lap,since he had pulled it the moment Devore came to visit Black's suite.Kelso was new to the business,but Tony had been a bag man for several years,and knew the unexpected was rarely ever good.Reddick,smelly demon or not,must have felt the same way,as not only had he spotted the piece first,in spite of those thick black glasses covering his eyes,but Tony had noticed his throat working shortly after Devore had come in,the flesh almost rippling like the surface of a disturbed pond.He was ready and waiting to spit acid on Devore and put him out of his misery after a short but definitely brutal death.But as quick as he was sure an acid spitting Reddick was,Tony knew better than to ever trust a demon.He wondered if a bullet would be enough to take him down. 

"Government,"Black hissed,as if the word was somehow poisoned."I thought Operation Arsenal was closed years ago." 

"It was,and I assure you we have no interest in Xavier or his people;whatever you wish to do with them is no concern of ours.In fact,we do appreciate the League's efforts in keeping mutants in check.But we want Logan."Devore said,entering the suite but not bothering to shut the balcony door behind him.The traffic noise was a constant low level thrum in the background,the smell of exhaust and various effluvia that the street cleaners couldn't quite contain almost swamping the smell of Devore's bizarre cigarette."Also,there is to be no word of this deal.The government-in whatever capacity-" 

"Black Ops,"Reddick rasped,stopping his bizarre Saint Vitus's dance to loom between Devore and the door.Although it would take almost four Reddick's to equal the width of this extremely muscular man,they were the same height,and Devore would have to take at least a split second to draw his gun-Reddick would have his face melting off by then,and Reddick clearly knew that. 

Devore gave him an amused once over,but the way his lips became tight and bloodless seemed to indicate he got it:Reddick was an unknown demon with unknown abilities,who could,in all probability,kill him first. As cocky as he was,Devore had no interest in trying his luck."Whatever you wish to call it.We don't wish to be associated with the League in any way,and if we are,well,the League becomes as endangered a species as mutants." 

"Is that a threat?"Black said coldly.No one in this room took well to threats,except Kelso,who often didn't know when he was being threatened. 

"No,a statement."Devore replied,with almost no irony at all.Like most government guys,any irony or humor had been pounded out of him a long time ago,held down and drowned in conformist bureaucracy. 

Hey,he liked that-he'd have to remember to write that down later. 

Black accepted that with a casual nod that hid his deep thinking on the matter."Fine." 

"I'm glad we have an understanding,gentlemen,"Devore said,clearly not meaning a word of it.He was only glad he was going. "And a deal."He took what looked like a business card out of his pocket and handed it to Black,still under the intense scrutiny of Reddick,which was clearly starting to unnerve him.From what Tony could see from his vantage point,half way between the balcony and the door,it was a plain oatmeal colored card,with a single phone number on it.No name,no address,no nothing; just a number."When you have Logan,call us." 

Devore started for the door and paused,waiting for Reddick to move aside,but the demon only did so (very reluctantly) at Black's nod of assent.But he continued to watch the pseudo G man as he went out the door,pausing only to add,"Oh,and you may want to look out for his claws.I can't tell you how many good-and not so good-men we've lost that way." 

"Claws?"Tony repeated,hastily flipping through bio print outs,looking for any mention of claws. 

Shit-who was doing the research around here? 

Man,they sucked. 

** 

    Jean decided there was something truly unsettling about Bob. 

He came off as some genial Aussie good old boy,and certainly the aura he gave off-that undefinable feeling she unconsciously measured everyone by-was warm,powerful but very friendly. 

But it was that power she didn't trust. 

("I don't know what he is,"Logan said."He smells like power.") 

All she smelled when she got near him was his cologne,very faint and,much like him,very pleasant-but it seemed calculated somehow,a studied pose.He was hiding a danger inherent to him,to his power,a danger that still threatened to seep out his pores;a danger Logan could smell,and yet chose to ignore. 

How did anyone know he was ignoring it of his own free will? 

She watched him carefully as she took him through a tour of their headquarters:he was extremely knowledgeable,and none of their supposedly 'top secret' technology surprised him in the least.In fact,he asked her if they had a couple of things she had never heard of in her life.The fact that they didn't have weapons bothered him ("Not even a grenade launcher?"He asked, shaking his head in disbelief),and he offered to have some 'zapped in',an offer she flat out refused.They didn't kill;it was the last resort of all possible last resorts. 


	8. Part 8

Her head ached with everything that was going on-it was like the world had been turned upside down,and nothing made sense anymore.Scott for one brief moment having normal eyes almost seemed reasonable now. 

He nodded and looked away,as if she was somehow a naive child,and she felt like hitting him.But that would just prove his point about violence,wouldn't it?So she didn't,but she resented him for it,because she realized,belatedly,he may have been trying to prove his dubious point. 

She knew he was dangerous,and a mistake to bring into this,but that had been the Professor's call. 

The Professor... 

They had just about wrapped up the tour-her having to turn down Bob's offer of weapons yet again (why was he so insistent on rocket launchers?Was he serious?)-when she heard the Professor say,in her mind,"Jean,gather everyone together in my office.I think it's time you know the whole story." 

"Did you get that?"She asked Bob.They were already in the elevator,on their way up to the ground level school. 

He looked at her with remarkable innocence.He was a very handsome man,drop dead gorgeous even,but again that felt suspicious somehow."Get what?" 

"A message from Xavier." 

"Oh,no.He can't touch my mind safely.None of you can." 

That almost sounded like arrogance,or a challenge.But she didn't think taking him up on it would be a good idea. 

"The Professor wants me to gather everyone together in his office.He wants to tell us all what occurred." 

"It's about time,"Bob said tersely,but he didn't sound bitter,just tired. 

They started down the hallway towards what was referred to as the 'main residence units',Bob letting her lead the way,and after a minute when she thought he was humming,she realized he was singing quietly under his breath."I used to be disgusted,and now I try to be amused,"he whisper sang.""But since their wings have got rusted,the angels wanna wear my red shoes.." 

It took her a moment,but wasn't that an old Elvis Costello song?She also asked him why he was singing at all,nonetheless that song,but decided she didn't really want to know.Bob was a really strange man. 

Suddenly,he shouted,"Logan!" loud enough to make her cringe. 

She wheeled on him,and gave him a dirty look."His room is just down this hall,"she pointed out,annoyed. 

"I know,"he said,giving her that innocent look again.She wondered if he was trying to push her into some act of violence again. 

Reluctantly,she turned her back on him and continued down the dark hall towards Logan's room,with Bob following and singing under his breath again,but now he had changed the song."..When he's had enough of that maybe you'll take him to bed,to teach him his whole life 'fore he wishes he was dead..." 

No,she didn't recognize that one at all. 

They were a door away from Logan's quarters when the door popped open,and Logan leaned out into the hall."You bellowed?"He asked Bob,looking over her shoulder at him. 

Logan's hair was dripping wet and plastered down to his head,beads of water suspended in his stubble and dark,curly chest hair,suggesting he'd just gotten out of the shower;quickly,judging from the way he was breathing hard,and his jeans,while pulled up,were undone. 

"Big meeting in Xavier's office,can't miss this one."Bob replied casually,as if they were students passing each other in the hallway between classes. 

Logan seemed really nervous looking between them,and Jean could guess why."Okay.Umm,Bob,listen-" 

"It's cool,"Bob interrupted."I don't care." 

Jean didn't believe that for a second,and from the surprised look on Logan's face,he didn't either."Seriously?" 

Bob scoffed,then gave him a seemingly genuine smile."Do you think anyone can control Helga?" 

Logan smirked knowingly."I guess not." 

Bob shrugged."You want to be with Helga,you gotta accept her extra-curricular activities." 

"Cute name for it,old man,"the aforementioned Helga commented as she came out of the room.As she passed Logan,she shoved a black shirt in his hands,and gave him a sly smile she shared with Bob.Helga's short green hair was wet too,and although she was fully dressed,her t-shirt clung to her chest with an unusual snugness,probably because she put it on without toweling off first... 

Oh man-Bob had shouted so they didn't catch Logan and Helga in flagrant delecto in the shower and/or bath.Did he know they were...how did he know?Did he just guess?She was torn between embarrassment and fury,with the fury being the most puzzling.She was angry on Bob's behalf,that's all.It wasn't like she was jealous or something.Like she'd be jealous of that green ...woman,debasing herself by sleeping around on her boyfriend right under his nose,and with his supposed friend to boot. Who could be jealous of such a display or rash,base passion,with no thought to consequences and the feelings of others... 

She was not jealous,damn it! 

To her additional irritation,Bob went up to Helga,smiling,and the two kissed rather passionately as an obviously puzzled Logan pulled on the t-shirt Helga had given him,then remembered he hadn't yet zipped his pants and turned aside and did so. 

She rested her head in her hands,wondering how things had ever gotten so sordid.This use to be such a nice place... 

"Since I've heard the story,I thought maybe Helga and I could do a bit of research,"Bob said,still holding the green skinned woman.She had her arms around his waist,and her tail wrapped around him,resting on his butt in a rather suggestive manner, while his arms were draped around her in a casually affectionate manner.Looking at them,you'd think they were the happiest couple in the world... 

...but she had just been..sleeping with Logan!God,this was so unbelievably sick.At least she and Scott had a good, healthy, stable relationship. 

"Research on what?"Logan asked,turning back to face the so called happy couple,running a hand through his dripping brown hair.His discomfort had eased to the point of negligibility. 

"Krek,mostly,"Bob admitted,as chummy as always.What the hell was his deal?"If I put out feelers that I want to hire him,I bet I can connect to someone who will spill all the beans on him." 

"What makes you think-"Jean began,then threw up her hands in frustration,answering her own question."Everybody talks to you."  
"With the exception of Ressik demons,yes,"Bob agreed,nodding.He looked down at Helga,who looked up at him,and they shared a warm smile that was almost positively post-coital."Shall we leave them to it?" 

She rubbed the tip of her green nose against his paler nose,and Jean felt positively ill at this hypocritical display of affection. "Why not?" 

"Get right back to you as soon as we have something,"Bob said,giving Jean a wink as they turned as one and started down the hall. 

"See ya,tiger,"Helga said to Logan,with a mock growl and a playful wink. 

Logan at least had the decency to blush slightly (she had no idea he was capable of that) and glance down at the floor,even though Bob pretended not to notice or care. 

If these really were demons,they were sick,sick beings.Maybe that's where the demon moniker came from. 

Logan turned to face her,looking slightly sheepish,but she held up her hand and turned away before he could see the disgust on her face."I don't want to hear it." 

"Look.it just-" 

"I said I didn't want to hear it,"she snapped,walking back down the hall. 

She heard him following,and heard him huff out a sigh,as if she was being the impossible one.He was quiet for several tense moments,before he asked,"Does Rogue know?" 

"Know what?"She replied,slightly horrified. 

"About this meeting." 

That was a relief somehow-she wasn't sure what he was asking at first."I think she's been dragged into this enough." 

"She hasn't been dragged into anything-she invited herself in,"Logan countered,quickening his pace to come abreast of her. 

She wished he hadn't.She didn't really want to have to look at him now,not even out of the corner of her eye."Still,her involvement ends here." 

"Tell the bad guys that,"he said,and cut her off,stepping right in front of her so she'd have to stop and look at him.She was so instantly furious she briefly thought about using her telekinesis on him,throwing him aside,but instantly she was chagrined by the very idea.What was it about Logan?Sometimes he pissed her off so goddamn much she wanted to see exactly how far she could throw him.She never used to have such a temper... 

"Look,Jean,I don't like having a kid in on this either,"Logan said earnestly,and she had no reason to doubt that.One of the greater paradoxes of his personality was,as violent as he was,he seemed to abhor hurting innocent people and children.But god help those he decided weren't innocent in the least,because nothing else would:he had honed his anger to a very specific weapon."But she's in,whether we like it or not.I'm all for protecting her-those bastards touch her they will fuckin' die-but we have no right to leave her out of the information loop.If worst comes to worst,she needs to be able to defend herself." 

"Thank you,"Rogue said suddenly,emerging from a hallway intersection twenty feet ahead of them.She looked to be eating a pizza crust,and doing her best to look innocent,but what worked on Bob-ironically enough-didn't quite work on her.""And you all wonder why I like him." 

'Would you like him so much if you knew he screwed other guy's girlfriends',she thought bitterly,but instantly banished the thought.That sounded really bitchy,even to herself."I thought I told you to stay in your room,"she sighed,almost too tired to argue with both of these willful,stubborn children at once. 

Rogue held up the sliver of crust,as if that was a defense."I got hungry!" 

Jean rolled her eyes,and decided there was no point in arguing anymore."The Professor's waiting for us," 

There were more important matters than these,and maybe something worth getting genuinely mad about. 

    15 

    As soon as they had all assembled in his office-save for Bob and Helga-Jean picked up on the tension without meaning to,but it was so thick it was hard to block out. 

The Professor had positioned his chair behind his desk,but he was facing away,towards the bay window behind him,looking out onto the side garden.The light spilling through the window was cool,and in a strange way he looked like a washed out photograph,a memory slowly fading right in front of your eyes. 

The waves of anger coming off Scott,doing the Logan thing in preferring to stand rather than sit,surprised her,but in retrospect it was not all that shocking-he was feeling betrayed that the Professor would keep a secret from them,a potentially dangerous secret.She had felt the same way initially,but they all had secrets,didn't they?Even telepaths. 

Logan leaned against the wall on the far side,opposite from where Scott was standing with his arms crossed tightly across his chest ,as if trying to physically keep his hostility in.Only she and Rogue sat,keeping a good distance between them on the sofa,but only because it was now habit for Rogue to keep as far from others as possible.She was simply curious,too new around here to feel anything like betrayal,and Jean almost envied that. 

Logan,meanwhile,was wary but reserving judgment-on the surface that seemed oddly mature of him,but really it was just a confluence of his inability to trust anyone very easily and his experience with secrets.No one had more secrets than Logan. 

After everyone had settled down,the Professor said,without turning around,"With your permission,I thought it might be easier-and more comprehensive-if I simply shared the memories with you.Is that acceptable?" 

They exchanged glances,Logan looking really uncomfortable with the idea while Rogue just looked startled,but still there seemed to be no objection."If you're willing to do that,I believe so,"Jean said,speaking for the group. 

The Professor nodded,now turning his chair around to face the room,his regal face unusually grim,every line on his face etched in shadows,and his blue eyes were so cold,the lines in the corners standing out in relief,it almost looked as if he was in pain. 

"If you're ready,"he said,and then they were no longer in Westchester. 

** 

    The breeze rustled the tree branches just overhead,the wind warm but not unpleasantly so on this warm,bright spring day, the sky above Central Park a clear and perfect robin's egg blue as Charles waited for Erik to make his move. 

"You're a fool,"Erik said,moving one of his black knights to capture one of his rooks. 

"You say that about almost everything I do,"Charles noted wryly,considering his next move. 

"Because it's invariably true,"Erik countered,sitting back against his chair. 

The park was rather quiet today,so they had the rather incongruous chess table all to themselves.A good thing,since this game had been going on for over an hour,as they had played the game so long they usually stalemated unless someone was really off their game.Today,neither of them were,although Charles's mind kept wandering back to that very strange man he had encountered the other day. 

He had approached him while he was in the bookstore on campus,a tall,pale man in dark clothing and a heavy dark overcoat that brought to mind either a detective really into his role or a government agent.He was correct about the latter. 

The man handed him a business card before asking,"Mister Xavier,how would you like to help your country?" 

"If it's not a set up-which I'm sure it is-then the government has finally stumbled on the idea of exploiting mutants for their own purposes.Do you really want to be their first pigeon?"Erik continued,his faintly accented voice sharp with bitterness. 

It seemed Erik was growing more cynical and militant by the day,and he didn't really know what,if anything,he could do about it.He was obsessed with the idea that governments all over the world were embarking on a 'second wave of genocide' against mutants-"the evolutionary shift they don't dare name"-and collected newspaper and magazine clippings he said proved his point,although actually most were quite vague,and many made no mention of anything unusual (or mutant) at all.It was what he wanted to see,though,and Erik saw conspiracy everywhere. 

"It's human nature to be scared of what you don't understand.Give them time,they'll learn."He replied,speaking to Erik's belief rather than answering his question. 

"Ah yes?Where do I start this time-with the Crusades,the Spanish Inquisition,or the Salem witch trials?"He replied icily, although with a touch of weary humor.This argument between them was so old they could actually have it without the other being present. 

Charles moved his white bishop closer to Erik's castle,and gave him a gentle,good humored smile."Sometimes I wish you could read minds.You'd see not all people are the callow,heartless bigots you seem to think they are." 

"If I could read their minds,I'd kill them all,"he replied coldly,instantly moving another knight to protect his castle on the black and white checkered board. 

Charles gave him a stern look."That's not funny,Erik." 

Erik's steel blue eyes met his fearlessly,unbowed and unashamed,almost radiant with defiance."It wasn't meant to be." 

Erik did scare him sometimes.Having inadvertently shared some of his memories,he knew that Erik had every right to be bitter and cynical:watching your family die one by one in a Nazi death camp was bound to sour the kindest spirit.But it had gone beyond even that;his whole spirit seemed to be curdling,dying a slow death and poisoning his entire being.The worst part was he genuinely liked Erik,in spite of all the bitterness:he was extremely intelligent and occasionally quite funny,and his loyalty to his few friends knew no bounds.But every day,by every hour,Erik seemed to be slipping away from him,one piece at a time,and he wasn't sure how to stop it,except show him kindness,engage his formidable intellect in debates,and hope some glimpse of the light got through. 

But he was no longer sure Erik wanted to see the light anymore. 

It was starting to effect his appearance too.His face could be said to be handsome,in a severe sort of way:he had a narrow knife blade of a visage,his cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass,his nose as thin and sharp as a stiletto beneath cold blue eyes that often reflected his intellectual genius and general disdain for everyone and everything else.His short,normally jet black hair was starting to show premature strands of grey ("Not grey,silver,"Erik would counter,enjoying the fact that his hair was becoming the color of metal),and everything about his features seemed to be hardening,as if he was slowly turning to stone. 

Or perhaps he should say he was turning from flesh to steel,from the inside out. 

Charles decided to press on,and bring up a salient point he was sure would throw a wrench in Erik's grand conspiracy plan.  
"The man was a mutant,Erik." 

He raised a single eyebrow,but otherwise his expression remained as stony as before."How do you know that?" 

"I tried to glean his intentions,see if he knew I was a mutant,but I couldn't read his mind.It was..."he paused as he tried to think of an apt metaphor for the experience."...like running my hands over black glass.He had a mind,of course,but I couldn't reach it in any way;I didn't even get an empathic sense from him.It was so extraordinary I almost asked how he could do that." 

"Could he have been a telepath too,blocking you out?" 

Charles considered that as he captured Erik's knight,then shook his head."No.I'd know if I was encountering a more powerful telepath.It wasn't like that at all.It was...bizarre,but I couldn't help but be intrigued."Only after he had made his move did he see that Erik had been luring him away from an important defensive position,and was three moves away from checkmate.There was no denying he could be frustratingly crafty sometimes,but he had to resist reading his mind just for an advantage in a simple game.Erik would make a ruthless general-he'd sacrifice most of his men,but he would capture the castle. 

"So you're going down to Washington to meet with his little group?"Erik asked,making just the move Charles had expected him to make. 

"I have to.The idea is fascinating." 

He looked off towards the grassy sward leading down to the duck pond,where two young lovers were having a picnic on a blanket spread out on the grass,tossing bread crusts to the bolder ducks and laughing as the birds scrambled and fought for the crumbs.Although the scene made Erik scowl in distaste,he had a familiar far away look in his eyes,suggesting he was thinking of something else."Infiltrate the government,and overthrow it from the inside out.Tricky,but it just might work..."he muttered, as if thinking aloud. 

It was Charles's turn to scowl."This is not about overthrowing the government:it's about helping them." 

That made Erik look sharply at them."Why help them?So they can make you an Uncle Tom to your own kind?" 

He sighed,wondering why he ever brought it up in the first place."We're all humans,Erik." 

"Some of us more than others,"Erik said bitterly,watching as Charles made a move that brought him one step closer to checkmate. 

** 

    Jean was empathically aware of everyone else in the room,even though her mind's eye was filled with the memories the Professor was sending them.Rogue,closest to her,seemed shocked that Magneto had ever been young (and handsome),or a friend of his,while Scott's anger had ebbed a bit,the sting of hurt tempered with sympathy since he knew how the Professor and Magneto's story ended. 

Logan was almost jumping out of his skin. 

She could almost pick up on the warning bells going off in his head:government,government program involving mutants.He was with Magneto here,urging not just caution but destruction,and it wasn't hard to guess why,since the government was the chief suspect in what had happened to Logan.In fact,a part of Logan was furious at the Professor for never mentioning it before,considering what had happened to him.But the Professor must have not thought there was a connection,otherwise he would have told him.She sincerely believed that,and hoped Logan did as well. 

Logan also seemed to be cursing a blue streak in his mind:"....goddamn asshole,not a mutant,a demon you moron..." 

She hoped,since she assumed Xavier was hearing it too,that he forgave him for that.Logan wasn't in a very rational frame of mind when he recalled his torture and mutilation,for obvious reasons. 

The rest of the memories felt like a montage,a brief recap just touching on important events while skipping the needless ones: Xavier undergoing standardized e.s.p. tests while being observed by government agents (and of course passing with flying colors,telling the tester the patterns on the cards several cards ahead of time);talking to the agent that had so intrigued him,the tall,almost cadaverous looking 'Agent Stone',who was trying to talk the Professor into telepathic espionage 'for the good of the country';meeting another Agent,identified as Swan,who is also unreadable,but gives the Professor a far eerier feeling than Stone ever did;and,in violation of rules,discussing the prospect of becoming involved in 'Operation Arsenal' with Magneto, who had accompanied the Professor down to Washington D.C. mainly due to his concern for the whole thing (again with the Uncle Tom and Judas Iscariot references from Magneto,which now seemed bitterly ironic since Magneto would ultimately betray Xavier,his only true friend). 

The Professor ultimately decided not to participate in Arsenal,but only because he felt that reading peoples minds without just cause-simply because they fit some pre-conceived pattern-was immoral,no matter the supposedly good intentions behind it. 

Which is exactly what he told Agent Stone. 

** 

    Agent Stone's office was small and rather stark,with only a large oaken desk-always as neat as a pin-and two large filing cabinets (always locked) ,with a large artificial plant on the right that someone must have thought would give a little sign of life to the relentlessly beige on beige office.The eggshell colored horizontal blinds covering the office's sole window,a slender rectangle of smoke stained glass,was only partially opened today,so slivers of light were scattered about the desk and floor like discarded torches left in the wake of an angry mob. 

Charles sat in an uncomfortable wooden chair before Stone's oversized desk,while Stone sat behind it,mostly in shadow with the partially opened blinds behind him,almost giving him a visible aura of yellow light. 

"I see,"Stone said finally,standing up.He wore a somewhat ill fitting brown suit with a white shirt and a pale grey tie that had a small dark blotch at the bottom-a coffee stain? 

(-somewhere far away,Jean was distantly aware of Logan's mind screaming,'It's dried blood,you bastard!Get out or kill him now!'-) 

"So young,and already a man of principals.And with your gifts!I must say,it's quite refreshing." 

Stone came around front to sit on the corner of his desk,one knee raised slightly and the other foot on the floor,hands folded on his knees.He looked down at Charles with a trace of a smile on his face,but there was something not quite right in his pale grey eyes.Not for the first time,he wished he could read something from him,even if it was only his emotions. 

"You know,when Operation Arsenal was started-as a shadow op,of course-the initial intent was to bring in the inhuman voluntarily,"Stone began,assuming a pedantic tone that suggested this was a long speech. 

"Inhuman?"Charles interrupted,puzzled.He wasn't sure if he should be offended or not. 

Stone was a remarkably bland looking man,thinning blond hair crowning a face so round,soft,and undistinguished it wasn't unusual for Charles to forget what he looked like only minutes after he last talked to him.Wasn't that in itself odd? 

But Stone went on,ignoring him."Not that they're especially patriotic,but they like causing trouble,and getting paid for it is simply a bonus.We never expected to inadvertently recruit humans who are rather...different.What's the term,mutants?" 

He wondered if Stone was putting him on.Was he saying that humans weren't the only intelligent species on the planet? 

"But the funny thing is,the upper ranks don't trust demons as a rule,"Stone went on,and Charles knew he had to be kidding now.He had to be kidding,or he was perfectly insane,possibly explaining why he couldn't read him at all."But mutants are even worse."He chuckled,as if that was really funny,and looked straight down at Charles...his eyes changing color and form.  
The grey irises turned a sickly,jaundiced yellow,the black pupil lengthening,becoming a slit from a circle,and something in his jaw seemed to unhinge:he suddenly had two rows of sharp teeth,one behind the other,like a shark,his lips stretching out until his mouth took up almost the entire lower half of his face.He looked like a grotesque parody of a human. 

"Now,keep in mind I said original intent,"the thing that called itself Stone said,now lisping terribly and flinging spittle about, his new mouth not quite made for the pronunciation of human words."The funniest thing now is that any of you chosen for Arsenal think you have the option to leave." 

(-somewhere far away,Jean realized,in his own mind,Logan had already cut Stone's head off with his claws as he was transforming-Scott was tensed to fire-) 

Charles stood,intending to make a break for it,but the awkwardly shaped humunculous suddenly reached into his jacket and fired something before Charles could even turn around.Something like a drug dart hit him in the solar plexus,and even as he reached down to pull it out,he could feel the warmth of the drug speeding through his bloodstream,leaving a hot sort of numbness in its wake. 

Charles had time to send out a telepathic call for help as he collapsed back into the chair,unable to move his limbs,and soon the warmth seemed to fog over his mind,robbing him of his telepathy,and slowly draining away his consciousness. 

"And the best thing of all,"Stone said,leaning in so Charles could see him before he blacked out."I can do whatever I want to you.At the end of the day,who gives a fuck about a mutie?" 

** 

    Here the memories became fuzzy,seen not only through a haze of time but of heavy drugs. 

There was a halo of light around everything as he opened his eyes,his body feeling as it was composed of wet sand,boneless and impossible to move,feeling deafened because he seemed to have no telepathic senses anymore:his mind felt like it was wrapped in clouds of wet cotton wool,and it was a horrible sensation.It was like some part of him had been amputated. 

His fuzzy vision first saw grey walls,grey metal walls- 

(-the shock of instant recognition from Logan,a mix of fear,revulsion,and rage,is instantaneous and so strong it is almost dizzying.Jean doesn't know how everyone can't feel that-) 

-as he is dragged past them,vaguely aware that he is in a part of the building he had never seen before,and he is brought into a small room,all metal and lights- 

(-Logan is a beacon of fear and fury at this point-he knows places like this far too well.He may not even be aware of his own overwhelming response;it's coded in his brain,instinct now,knee jerk,an atavistic response.She tries hard to block him out, because she is starting to react to his fright and hatred;she can feel panic setting in,her heart racing,adrenaline surging-) 

-and tossed by the guards unceremoniously on a hard metal table,a bright  light overhead all but blinding him- 

(-it takes all Jean's willpower not to scream-) 

-and the guards leave,but Stone is there.Stone,and a dark figure,beyond the halo of light so Charles can't quite see him. 

"You know,I think you'd make a great operative,but we have trouble doing telepaths half as strong as you,"Stone said,back in human face again,but the drugs are so heavy it sounds like he's speaking under water."So,since I owe my friend a favor here,I thought I'd let him conduct a little experiment." 

(-she is biting the inside of her cheek so hard she can taste her own blood,and she desperately wants to kill these men,tear them apart,rend them limb from limb like dolls,the hate is almost too much to bear-) 

The shadow man comes forward now,and he can see it is that man Swan,a shorter,stockier man with skin the color of bleached bones,his close cropped hair the color of grave dirt,his eyes like dark thumbprints in his soft,doughy face.But nothing about this man looks soft at all:he looks as if he's hard all the way down to bone,his eyes dead,as if made of glass,with nothing but the faintest light left to illuminate them.Demon too,probably,but not the same as Stone..no,not the same at all. 

"I've never tasted a psionic this strong before,"Swan says,and his voice is a hungry rasp. 

"Don't eat him all,"Stone said."We need some of his mind left to see if this is going to work." 

Swan makes a noise,an annoyed grunt of vague agreement,and Charles can feel his arm brush his.Swan's arm is as cold as death,and his flesh almost has a leathery feel,as if it is a completely non-porous casing,not living tissue at all. 

Swan puts his hand on his forehead,and Charles thinks he sees something odd on the palm of his hand,but what?It looked dark...a mark,a wound? 

But his hand feels warm on his forehead,almost feverishly hot,and suddenly a pain unlike any other stabs through Charles's mind.It's psychic,but the equivalent of a knife being shoved between his delicate brain tissue,severing neurons and frying synapses,causing an explosion of black motes before his eyes.He would scream from the pain,but he is too drugged to even do that- 

(-Jean almost screams,his pain on top of  this is too much-psychic pain,gods,she can feel it like it's slicing into her own brain- but suddenly she finds comfort in Logan's bedrock of rage:it endures pain with its own mantra-"survive to make them pay" -and seems to hold on...the hate had a purpose after all-) 

-and he thinks Swan is increasing whatever he is doing so it feels like the world has turned to Jell-o beneath him,but the pain has stopped,and the black spots fade from his vision as he hears Stone exclaim,"What the hell is this?An earthquake?" 

"Asshole,this is Washington D.C.,"Swan rasps."It doesn't have earthquakes." 

Suddenly a very loud,strident alarms rips through the room,echoing off the metal walls,and Stone hisses,"Shit-we're under attack." 

"What?Who would even know to attack us?"Swan snaps. 

Metal walls. 

Charles knows if he could smile,or even laugh,he would.Obviously Erik got his telepathic distress call before the drugs kicked in,and now,with a mix genuine regret and ecstatic glee,he knows their world is about to end. 

Stone draws his regulation sidearm and says to Swan,"Get him out the back.We'll rendezvous at-" 

But his sentence is cut short when the door and the walls on either side of it are torn away as if by a giant hand,but the sudden gaping wound in the architecture reveals nothing...except a lone young man walking down the hall towards it. 

"Charles?"He shouts,sounding somewhat pissed."Where the hell are you?" 

(-Jean realizes that Logan is all but cheering,and,sadly,so is she,even though she knows this can't end well-) 


	9. Part 9

Stone randomly fires down the hall as Swan grabs Charles and pulls him off the table,more or less propping him up on his feet by grabbing him underneath the arms,as his body still feels novacained save for his throbbing head,and he hears men pile in the rear door-armed guards-but does not really see them,except out of the corner of his eye as Swan starts dragging him towards the exit. 

The bullet doesn't hit its target;Erik swats the air as if shooing away a fly and the bullet falls harmlessly to the floor as Stone shouts,"Take him down!" 

The seven men raise their guns along with Stone,only to have them violently yanked out of their hands and turned towards their own heads,hovering in mid air before them as if the weapons had suddenly gained sentience and decided to rebel against their former masters. 

"It's nice to know government security is handled by incompetent boobs,"Erik sniped,finally seeing him being pulled back by Swan."Did I not tell you you were a fool,Charles?"He then turned his hard eyes,icy hot with rage,on Swan."Let him go. That's the only time I'm going to tell you." 

One of the guards made a grab for his weapon,and Charles,knowing Erik's temper damn well,tried to send the message with his eyes alone,"Don't kill them." 

Erik scowled,bringing out the hard etched lines on his face,but he seemed to actually humor him,at least for the moment. 

The metal walls of the room seemed to ripple,and suddenly tore away from their moorings and engulfed all the guards, wrapping them up tight inside the metal which fell to the floor like rolls of silver carpet,a living,struggling guard in the center of each one.As pliable as the metal was for Erik,the men could only attempt to hammer against their claustrophobic prisons; someone would have to cut them out. 

Their guns remained floating in the air like alien insects,only the seven guns fanned out around Swan,and one remained aimed firmly at the baffled and finally scared Stone.Erik turned his hard eyes on Stone,and said,"You-get down on the floor." 

Stone didn't say anything,he simply complied as Erik stepped farther into the skeletal remains of the room,and Stone's gun instantly plummeted to the floor,and judging by the dull,meaty thud,Stone's head had been in the way. 

Erik glared at Swan,the hate in his eyes almost palpable,and the hammers of seven guns clicked."You had your warning." 

"You can't kill me without killing your friend,freak."Swan spat at him. 

Not a muscle in Erik's stony face twitched."Would you like to bet on that?" 

Swan grabbed Charles by the back of the head,his cold,dead fingers entwining in his hair,and the psychic knife was back,but now it cut through his brain like a chain saw,a flame thrower,his vision growing crimson with the utter apocalypse  going on inside his skull,his brain being somehow pulverized and crushed under the weight of this monster's psychic force. 

The horizon of his thoughts had become a bloody red,so the sound of something popping (he couldn't help but think it was one of his frontal lobes) was no shock,but the sensation of falling was,and hard impact.But his vision quickly cleared,and he saw he was on the floor,not far away from several guns-one of which still had smoke curling up from the barrel. 

He looked towards the rear wall,and noticed there was a very large splatter of blood and...something else,something pulpy. Brain tissue,pulverized bone,all in a long,bloody smear still oozing down the wall.It was probably good he was so doped up, because he thought he'd be violently ill if he wasn't. 

Erik,who had seen similar things and probably far worse in his lifetime,didn't even pause as he came over and grabbed Charles by the arm,pulling him up to his feet."Did I not tell you you would regret this?"Erik said,draping his arm over his shoulders. "Humans and the Judas mutants who work with them can never be trusted." 

He wanted to say they hadn't exactly been humans,but he still didn't have his voice back. 

Erik must have known he couldn't talk,because as he helped him out of the room,he continued talking,having his own conversation."On the plus side,if we worked together,we could rule this town in a day."After a pause-where they both knew his objection (probably a "That's not funny,Erik,") would be,he admitted,"But why would we bother?Humans are so pathetic." 

At the end of the hall,several new guards appeared,many with rifles,and the largest man,who dropped into a kneeling sharpshooters stance seeing them,shouted,"Freeze!" 

Erik snorted disdainfully,and while it was no surprise to Charles that all the weapons were suddenly yanked out of their hands and fused into one big tangled ball of metal in the air before dropping onto the floor like a boulder of metallic slag,they looked very surprised indeed. 

One rifle had been spared from the twisted pretzel of firearms,and it hovered between the two groups,cocked and aimed straight for the now helpless security officers."I'm going to say this once,and I'm not going to repeat myself,"Erik said sternly, giving them his patented hate stare,the one that would freeze the blood of any living thing."Bother us-or any other mutant- again,and it will be the last thing you ever do.You can stop him,you can stop them?Fine."His voice became short and sharp, and he spit out every word like a bullet."But.You.Can't.Stop.Me." 

Judging from the look of utter horror on all their faces,they had come to that very conclusion independently. 

"Now get out of here before I start shooting,"Erik snapped,and the men fled so fast it was hard to believe they'd ever come back to this line of work again.Erik tossed the rifle aside,and muttered a distasteful,derisive,"Humans." 

    16 

    Suddenly they were back in the Professor's office back at the mansion,and Jean was trembling from all the excess adrenaline dumped in her bloodstream,her heart continuing to race and pound hard against her rib cage like a fist,sweat beading on her forehead as she leaned her head down into her hands.She just needed a moment to catch her breath,she'd be fine. 

There was a general air of shock in the room,as if the experience had been far too disorienting to immediately cope with,until the Professor said,"I guess they took Erik at his word:they never found the money to rebuild the complex,and a year later Operation Arsenal was closed as a failure." 

"You used to have hair,"Rogue muttered,as if that was the first time she ever realized he had. 

That was so funny Jean almost laughed. 

"Did you tell him they weren't human?"Scott wondered,and he looked so shocked and drained she wasn't surprised when he came over and sat on the arm of the couch next to her.She also wasn't surprised when he unconsciously reached his hand out to her.Sure she had a handle on herself now,she raised her head and grasped his hand,giving it a reassuring squeeze she probably needed more than he did. 

"I did.He didn't believe me.He thought I was protecting my 'pet humans'.Except for Swan,whom he thought was a mutant." 

"Didn't he see the stuff on the wall?"Logan asked. 

For a minute,no one followed him,or at least no one wanted to. 

"You mean the brains?"Rogue asked tentatively. 

"Yeah.That didn't look like normal brains.There was something else in it,and I mean besides the skull and hair." 

Jean shuddered at the casual morbidity of that. 

"You know what brains on a wall are supposed to look like?"Scott asked,both disbelieving and vaguely disgusted. 

"Yeah,I do,"Logan answered defiantly. 

"How?" 

"Do you really wanna know,Scott?"He sneered back. 

No,he didn't;none of them did.Leave it to Logan to be an expert on spilled brain matter. 

"Psychic demon,"Rogue said quietly,a distant look in her eyes. 

"What?"Jean replied,glad for the change of subject. 

"Bob warned me not to absorb demons because some of 'em might be psychic demons,"she said,Rogue's eyes brightening with inspiration."Could that be what Swan was?" 

"Bob did suggest that,especially since consumption of my telepathic powers was mentioned,"the Professor replied,sounding proud of her for catching that."But he assumed,since Arsenal was a joint human-demon project,there would be humans involved in some capacity." 

"Are you sure it shut down?"Logan asked.He still had the strength to pace,but,again,he would. 

"Yes.I have several government contacts that assured me the project was scrapped,mainly because there were not enough positive results to justify its budget." 

"And Magneto scared the shit out of them,"Rogue added. 

Jean frowned at her for cursing,but the Professor sounded amused as he admitted,"Well,there is that." 

"It could be shut down under one name and reopened under a different one,"Logan argued,sounding like he was becoming tense with anger again.She didn't know how he had the energy for it;just experiencing some of it on the periphery had left her exhausted. 

"It could,but my contacts have said there was an ugly incident that led them to give up on demons entirely until a couple of years ago,and even then the program was a crashing failure that shut down barely a year after it began,even though they decided not to work with demons as equals,or combined them with mutants in any way.Apparently,there were some... unfortunate incidents..." 

"No kidding,"Logan carped,pacing in a short tight line that threatened to wear a rut into the carpet."Most demons see humans as food.They were morons to even try." 

"Does that include Bob?"Scott wondered. 

Logan stopped and fixed him with an acidic glare."If that were true,we would be working our way through his digestive tract by now." 

Oh,more lovely imagery.She thought about making a snide remark about Helga,but decided to keep it to herself.She was too tired even to be catty. 

"I think Bob is our only chance to get to the bottom of this,"the Professor said soberly."He may be a tad...suspect,but I don't doubt his integrity.He said he would help-he will." 

She didn't doubt the Professor:if he believed that,then so did she.But she would never shake her basic reservations about Bob. They thought Magneto was powerful (and was he ever)-she thought Bob might make him look strangely pedestrian. 

As if he knew he was the subject of their conversation,there was a rhythmic knocking at the door,and then it popped open,Bob sticking his head in the room but coming no further inside."Hope I'm not interrupting,but I've got an address for Krek. Anyone up for paying him a visit?" 

"Hell yeah,"Logan instantly agreed,and Bob gave him a roguish grin in reply. 

Now what was going on there?Bob seemed almost protective of Logan (to the point where he would let him schtup his girlfriend?) ,and she doubted he'd ever do anything to him,no matter what Bob might do to anyone else.The first thought was Bob was attracted to Logan,but that didn't seem quite right;it was too mundane a motive for a deliberately obfuscatory man like Bob,who probably wouldn't have bothered to hide such a thing anyways (and surely Logan would pick up on it ).And Logan, who found it so hard to trust anyone (for obvious reasons,perhaps),seemed to actually trust Bob,or come as close to trust as he could.So what was the deal? 

It occurred to her to just ask,but she somehow doubted either of them would admit anything. 

There was a brief discussion of how they'd handle this-Bob was adamant 'no suits' because there was no guarantee this would be a fight,besides which this was an attempt to be "Somewhat covert-people in natty leather suits get noticed".Rogue wanted to go,of course,and Jean really didn't want her to go;luckily,neither did Logan,since Krek had been described as a hit man,but Rogue was in full on stubborn mode.Bob suggested someone needed to help the Professor hold down the fort,and suddenly she agreed-had he done something to her?He was nowhere near her,and it looked like nothing happened-but according to Scott's recollections,nothing happened when Bob spoke to the man named Cyril,yet he froze and never moved until Bob apparently let him.She sensed no telepathy,but that's what immediately came to mind (and there was an ironic pun in there somewhere). 

Logan must have suspected Bob did something,because he gave him a sidelong glance,brow furrowing slightly,but he let it go,probably because he wanted Rogue to stay here.She decided to ask him about it later,out of Bob's presence. 

They left the room,leaving Rogue and the Professor behind,and as Scott,Bob,and the ever present Helga (did she really have to go along?) lead the way down the hall,she grabbed Logan's arm,and pulled him aside."Did Bob do something to Rogue?"She whispered. 

He grimaced,and she could see the war between suspicion and loyalty in his green eyes."I'm not sure.I don't think he pushed her,but she agreed to it rather fast.So either he did,or she's planning to follow us." 

Pushed?Was that the term for it?But yes,that happened last time,didn't it?Rogue following anyway,even after explicitly being told not to return to the mansion until the crisis was over."That sneaky little-" 

"Don't worry,I can ask Bob to make sure she doesn't,but let's face it,I don't think the Professor's gonna let her out of his sight. Uh,mind?" 

She scowled and nodded in reluctant agreement."I don't like the idea of changing someone's mind by outside means.But in Rogue's case,and this circumstance,I might make an exception." 

"Yeah,I know,but..."he shrugged helplessly."Teenagers.I bet I was that way once." 

"You mean you think you've stopped being that way?"She asked,giving him a knowing smile. 

He grinned back at her,a mischievous and rare spark of humor glimmering in his eyes."I like to think I've refined it." 

She thought about everything he had been feeling while living through that memory of the Professor's,and he still carried the rigid tension of the fear and rage in his body;his muscles still seemed tensed,the fight or flight response of an adrenaline dump just didn't dissipate that easily.Even she felt a little keyed up,but holding Scott's hand had helped immeasurably;he had his emotions under such tight control he could be a refreshing breather from the world of turbulent thoughts and violent emotions:he could be,in a good way,like a sensory deprivation tank at times.It was too bad Logan had no one like that for him; he was one of the most emotional men she had ever met.Of course,she had a feeling if she said that he wouldn't take that well, any more than Scott would take being referred to as a sensory deprivation tank as a positive thing. 

On sheer impulse,she put her arms around him and gave him a hug. 

Logan went instantly tense and grabbed her arms as if he might rip them off,and took a step back."What the hell are you doing?"He asked,and she wasn't sure if he sounded more frightened or puzzled. 

"I don't know,"she admitted."I'm sorry.For what you went through." 

He suddenly seemed to relax into the hug,and gently,although awkwardly,embraced her in kind."You sensed that,huh?" 

"Kind of hard not to."She rested her head against his shoulder,and was surprised at how nice this was,even though she thought,if she held him hard enough,she could feel his adamantium just lurking beneath his flesh and muscle;a permanent physical reminder of his torture in case the mental and emotional scars were not enough. 

"I try to..."he began,and then paused,struggling to find the right words for it."It's bigger than I am sometimes,"he finally said, his voice lowered to a whisper."The anger overwhelms me.I try to hold it back,but sometimes I don't know how." 

Not for the first time,the term post traumatic stress disorder occurred to her (it all fit:the free floating rage,the distrustfulness,the nightmares...),but Logan would probably prefer being told he was simply emotional."I don't think it's your fault,"she said, deciding that was the safest thing to say. 

"But it's not an excuse,"he admitted,sounding defeated (and angry-there was always anger)."I'm sorry-" 

"Don't,"she interrupted.He really had nothing to apologize for:what happened to him-and his response to it-was not his fault. 

For a moment they just held each other,and she hoped she was a stabilizing influence for him like Scott was for her,just this once.He rested his head against hers,and she suddenly realized if they didn't knock this off,someone was bound to come back and see them and take this the wrong way. 

But it was surprising how nice it felt.She only hoped it helped Logan in some way,even if only for a moment. 

With more reluctance than she would ever admit,she pulled away from him,and told him,with a twinge of humor,"You're still a putz." 

He frowned at her,but even that seemed unusually gentle for him."This is about that Helga thing,isn't it?" 

She walked down the hall,tossing a mock scolding look at him over her shoulder. 

"You think I now don't feel bad about that?"He protested,following her."But hey,she jumped on me,and I'm a guy.What do you expect-" 

Reassuringly,everything felt back to normal now. 

** 

    Although it was not surprising Krek lived in what had to be an expensive brownstone all by himself,it still seemed wrong.  
But he was a hired assassin;if you were good at what you did,you could name your price. 

The brownstone/house was at the end of a surprisingly quiet,suburban block,with maple trees in full display giving the street an old fashioned,almost homey feel.The overhanging branches fat with green leaves,the rays of the slowly setting sun shining through them dappling the neatly swept street with molten orange and gold.The other houses lining the street-neo-Victorian mostly-had well tended if tiny lawns,with even the sidewalks looking pristine,as if someone made it their job to rinse them clean every week.It was the picture of suburban contentment. 

Logan wondered how many demons lived around here.Maybe they were all demons. 

For some reason,this all unsettled him.He could already feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end;maybe this place was too "Stepford Wife",too perfect to be real in any way,shape,or form. 

Bob probably wasn't helping.Sitting next to him in the back seat,he was singing under his breath,looking around as if searching for something specific."You're the bullet,I'm the gun-I won.Screw on the silencer and have some fun,"Bob sang quietly,craning his neck to have a better look at a powder blue split level as they drove past. 

"What are you looking for?"Logan asked,annoyed.The unease seemed to be creeping under his skin,and he felt almost tense enough to scream. 

"Any sign of human habitation,"he replied,continuing to look around. 

"So you don't think humans live around here either." 

"If they do,they are so anal,shallow and scary I hope I never meet them." 

At least now he knew what it took to scare Bob. 

"Are you sure this is the right address?"Scott asked,for the second time,as they parked along the curb of the next street over. Well,no sense pulling in the driveway,was there?"Could they have been-" 

"Prick up yer ears,Chad,"Helga snapped.She was sitting on the other side of Bob,her tail looped around his shoulder and caressing his neck."Nobody lies to Bob." 

"Chad?"He repeated,scowling into the rearview mirror. 

"You're so blow dried and squeaky clean,you should be a Chad." 

Logan couldn't help but laugh,even as Jean,riding shotgun in the front passenger seat,gave Helga a death look that should have,by all rights,splattered her all over the interior of the car.Scott just continued to scowl,and if he had thought of a retort (doubtful),he didn't say it. 

It was decided Logan and Bob should go ahead and see if the coast was clear,or if they were going to catch Krek by surprise (which he was hoping for,very badly). 

There was a high wooden fence around the postage stamp sized backyard,discolored and starting to warp from the weather since Krek had obviously never bothered to stain it,and Logan easily jumped over it,figuring if Bob needed a hand he'd ask.He didn't.He needed to pull himself up a bit more,but he made it over okay:surprisingly agile for such a big guy. 

Krek's backyard was like a big sandbox-not only was the grass dead,but so was the soil.It had an unhealthy grey color,like metal dust,and smelled a bit like burnt rubber."He's a what now?"Logan whispered to Bob,who was standing abreast of him on his left,looking up at the back of the brownstone,which had been painted the telling color of old blood. 

"Wartros demon.No wonder he's a hit man." 

"Mean buggers?" 

He scoffed,but nodded in agreement."Mean,ugly,and really hard to kill.Kill them with your first shot or die,and I'm serious- they're a lot like you." 

He was almost offended until he got what he was saying."They heal fast?" 

"Very.Also,no centralized brain;they have neural clusters scattered throughout their body,so taking off their head won't  actually be enough to kill them." 

"Shit."He had never encountered a creature that could lose its head and still live."But they gotta have a weak spot,something guaranteed to kill them.What about the heart?" 

"Which one?They have three." 

"Is there anything else you want to tell me about these guys?" 

"They have a claw on the inside of their third wrist that secretes the deadliest neurotoxin in the known universe.It makes risin seem like warm beer." 

"Third wrist?" 

"They have six arms." 

Logan closed his eyes,and took a deep breath,the hideous smell of the dead earth beneath his feet almost making him cough. "Thanks for letting me know before we left,"he said sarcastically,opening his eyes to glare at him. 

Bob looked back at him with a shrug."Would that have really kept you from coming?" 

"No.But I'd appreciate the head's up."He then glanced down at the dead ground,which looked quite a bit like ground zero, without the pieces of sand nuked into fragments of glass."What do you think this is about?" 

"He probably hated the grass so he torched it.They're not big gardeners." 

"I bet." 

There was a very small cement porch leading up to the back door,barely enough room for him and Bob both,but in a way it didn't matter.All Bob did was close his eyes and concentrate,and Logan simply sniffed the air,weeding out the scent of scorched grass and trying to parse out the other smells. 

If there was something living currently inside the house,he didn't smell it.He smelled several other things-Krek had a pepperoni pizza with pesto sauce either last night or this morning-but nothing living,nothing like Krek himself.Bob opened his eyes,and nodded at his unspoken question."No,he's out.Maybe looking for us." 

Logan didn't like that idea."Rogue and the Professor-" 

"Have nothing to worry about,"Bob reassured him."Wartros demons are as vulnerable to telepathy as any human,in spite of the oddity of their brain structure.I trust the Professor could take him down.By us I mean us=well,okay,not me.But you and Red and 'Clops,and possibly Helga.Krek would be smart enough to avoid falling within the radius of Xavier.And if he knew what I was,he'd skip town." 

"Right.You're Dray-whatever the hell.Isn't that what the Ressik called you?What does that mean?Was it a demon curse word?" 

Bob smirked in such a way that Logan knew he had just given him something to laugh about later."Yeah,something like that." 

Before he could ask him what it really meant,he whistled sharply enough to make Logan wince-the sign to Helga that the rest of them could go around front,as no one was home."Oh,sorry,"Bob said afterwards,as Logan glowered at him. 

"Just warn me next time,"he said,popping his claws and shoving them in the steel coated door,between the door knob and the jamb.Whatever locks had been engaged (felt like deadbolts) fell to pieces inside the door,and with a small shove it swung open once Logan had retracted his claws. 

Picking locks was for sissies. 

He and Bob walked through a strangely clean and empty kitchen-with all the requisite appliances in matching shades of ivory contrasting with the blue formica floor,it could have been a demo kitchen from a department store display-and Logan could not only smell the previous night's dinner (he didn't get pesto pizza at all;did this mean everybody who ate it was evil?) but another smell,strange and faint and surely the smell of Krek:it was the smell of old books,their pages crumbling to dust,with something sharp and pungent beneath,like the smell of acid or vinegar-something sour and unpleasant that was speeding the destruction. 

They walked through into the living room so they could let the others in the front door and search the house (and,Logan sincerely hoped,ambush the bastard),but something Logan saw hanging over the living room couch that made him stop and stare. 

"Guess we'll find out if you can hold your liquor,keep your eyes shut it'll go down quicker,"Bob sang softly,as he threw all the locks on the front door:there looked to be half a dozen,all deadbolts."The cat's in the bag and the bag's in the river now."A small corner of Logan's mind wondered if these were real songs,or things Bob just made up. 

He opened the door for the others,then turned back to him and said,"What is it,Logan?" 

"Those sais,"he admitted,walking over to the brown rose colored sofa.Hanging on the wall behind it,displayed on a bamboo rack,were two gleaming silver short swords with expertly woven black leather hilts,and a small piece of white silk hanging from the bottom with some kind of Japanese idiogram on it in black ink.The ideogram looked almost familiar somehow,but he wasn't sure. 

"The what?"Scott asked,looking around. 

"Sais,they're a type of Japanese short sword often used by ninjas,"Bob told him."And how did you know that,Logan?" 

Logan took one off the rack carefully,examining it,feeling the weight of it in his hand.It was not a cheap knock off,a decoration in some upscale decoration store where Yuppies went to buy a piece of faux ethnicity for'kitsch'.This was a real sword,old but well taken care of-even the leather handle had been regularly oiled.He could smell it,feel it in its soft yet tight grip.He wondered how many people Krek had killed with these. 

"Logan?"Bob repeated,although Logan would have sworn this was the first time. 

"Huh?What?"He replied,looking at him.It was now them,actually,as everyone had crowded into the front room,and everyone was giving him a variation of a strange look (except Scott,who could only frown). 

Jean was the first to say anything."Do you recognize that?" 

He looked at the short sword in his hand,and without consciously meaning to sliced the air with it,moving only his wrist in a tight circle while his forearm remained motionless."I'm not sure,"he admitted,looking at the reflection of his own eyes in the thin silver blade. 

"You move it pretty fancy for a gaijin,"Bob said,moving past him to grab the second sai off the rack."But you don't seem like the ninja type to me-too deceptive by half,those buggers." 

Logan didn't pay too much attention him,as he was too busy trying to figure out why this would look almost familiar to him. 

Bob raised his sai like it was a traditional sword,holding it inches before his face,and said,in a patently cartoonish French accent,"You have dishonored me,monsieur.I challenge you to a duel." 

"That's not how you use them,"Logan replied dismissively."They're extensions of the hand." 

"Like your claws?"Bob said,lowering his sai. 

"What?"Scott asked,and looked more perturbed for no reason at all. 

Logan reflexively glanced down at the hand holding the sai,and noticed how the blade was indeed mimicking the shape of his claws,although it was perfectly straight.But the blade was about nine inches long,wasn't it?"Sort of,"he finally admitted."But not quite.These are more elegant than claws." 

Out of the corner of his eye,he saw Jean and Scott exchange puzzled glances,ending in a shrug and a shake of the head from Jean.What was that about? 

"Why do you know so much about this,Logan?Do you even know?"Bob wondered,putting his sai back on the rack. 

"No."With great reluctance,he put his own sai back. 

"I understood that,"Jean said quietly. 

"You know,when you got the time,maybe you should go check out Japan,"Bob said,looking perfectly serious."I wouldn't be surprised if you had some history there.I have contacts there,people who might be able to help you out." 

"I've never been to Japan,"he said sourly.Had he? 

"Then how come you speak perfect Japanese?"He asked,raising his eyebrows in curiosity. 

Logan glared at him as if he had just completely lost his mind right in front of him,and he must have."I don't speak Japanese." 

"Logan,"Jean said gently,as if he had just scared her in some way."You just were speaking Japanese." 

He stared back at everyone staring him,and for a moment wondered if there was a gas leak."I was not!I don't even understand it." 

"Logan,"Bob said,his voice full of patient kindness,as if he were talking to a hysterical child."After I challenged you to a duel, you told me that wasn't how you used them in perfect conversational Japanese.Not textbook stuff,either.In fact,if I'm right,there was a hint of  a Kyoto inflection." 

There had to be a gas leak-this was insane."I don't know what kind of game you're playing,Bob,but I don't speak Japanese. Don't you think I'd remember if I did?" 

"Think about what you just said,"he replied evenly,nothing but compassion in his strange,unnaturally blue eyes. 

Logan did,and realized,with a bit of a jolt,that Bob had actually said that in Japanese,but he understood it perfectly.And he had spoken Japanese himself,hadn't he?How could a person lapse from one language into another without realizing it? 

"You must have been fluent at one point in your life,"Bob said,in English,seemingly answering his unspoken question. "Probably immersed in the language,which would seem to point towards Japan.And while you consciously forgot it-you probably learned it as an adult,although that's just a guess-it was probably always lurking in your subconscious.Finally,you regained the key memory,the one that unlocked that door,and you never realized it.Congrats!" 

He let the possibility of that wash over him for a moment,and it didn't seem feasible,not at all.He'd heard Japanese before and never understood it. 

"You sword fight?"Helga asked,her tail twitching back and forth like a metronome. 

"No." 

"Yes you do,"she insisted,going up the stairs to the second story before he could say a damn thing. 

Bob simply gave him a genial smile,eyes as bright as stars."Helga knows her weapon handlers.Trust her."He then turned and followed her up the small staircase,set off to the left of the main room. 

"I'm not even going to say it,"Scott said,frowning at Bob's broad back.But he didn't even look back-he must have heard,but he didn't care-and Scott followed him up the stairs. 

Jean gave him a sympathetic look and shrugged,as if she really didn't know what to say,and then went up after Scott. 

He remained alone in Krek's ridiculously prim living room for a minute longer,trying to put the pieces together.Okay,so he seemed to have a passing familiarity with Japanese weapons,and some heretofore unknown faculty with the language.Maybe he just watched too many Akira Kurosawa films. 

Except...had he ever even seen a Kurosawa film? 

Well,there had to be a reasonable explanation.He was sure of it.But he wasn't sure he was ever going to find it. 

He followed the rest of them up the stairs,equally excited and scared that he might have remembered something about his legitimate past,no matter how small,confusing,and strange it was. 


	10. Part 10

The upper story of the house had been turned into a single room,thanks to the removal of several walls,although thankfully he left the bathroom walls intact.The huge room,encompassing the entire story,seemed to be a combination of a bedroom, gym,and office,all mixed together:a large bed was tucked in the far corner,a stone's throw from the type of padded mat a gymnast or martial artist might use,which was parallel to an old fashioned rolltop desk with a very new fashioned PC sitting on it.This type of incongruity continued all the way throughout the floor,including the fact that the outward facing wall was full of long (decorative,but not capable of being opened) rectangular windows,that let in every single ray of the now setting sun.No assassin liked to be seen,true,but an assassin liked to have the best view at all times,and from this floor,through these windows,he could see virtually the entire block. 

After he mentioned that,Helga,who had been helping Bob boot up the computer,said,"You know a lot about assassins." 

That seemed to make everyone in the room pause,and when he looked away from the window to her,he found everyone was looking at him again."Are you implyin' something?" 

It didn't matter what variety of evil look he gave her-Helga was as fearless as Bob."No,I'm thinking aloud.I know a lot about assassins too,but I know why." 

"You used to be one?"Jean suggested,sounding rather catty. 

"Good going,Carrie,you got it in one,"she said,leaving Bob to search the hard drive on his own. 

Both Jean and Scott gaped after her (Bob didn't react at all,which was very telling),and Helga just gave him a steady,inquiring look as she crossed the room to have a look at what was probably weapons cabinets.He couldn't remember ever sleeping with a woman and feeling like he knew next to nothing about her or her motives,but that was the case with Helga.They might as well have never fucked;they may as well have been perfect strangers.If anything,he felt that,ironically,sleeping with her had lengthened the distance between them,and he hadn't exactly been close to her in the first place.All he knew about her before was she was Bob's nympho girlfriend who could really kick ass;now all he knew was she was Bob's nympho girlfriend who could really kick ass and liked rough sex. 

"Was she serious?"Jean,who was searching the papers of the desk,asked Bob. 

Bob paused from his computer fiddling-his fingers were a blur on the keyboard,and although Logan knew next to nothing about computers,he had a feeling Bob was hacking the security protocols on Krek's PC to access his private files (Bob certainly did move with the times)-and only said,"We all have things in our past we regret,Doctor.The key is to overcome and move on." 

She just stared at him,possibly hoping it was a joke."Shit,"she whispered.Jean just about jumped a foot when there was a huge crack,like a rifle shot,but Helga had only used a side kick on the door of one of the cabinets,putting her foot clean through the thick mahogany and splitting it completely down the middle.Helga grinned at them all like the fox who had just cleaned out the hen house,and Logan realized he never knew how truly dangerous she really had the potential to be. 

"You run with a rough crowd,Bob,"Logan said,walking over to the cabinets to see what Helga had uncovered. 

"Outsiders are drawn to one another,"he said with a shrug,turning back to the computer.That sparked a curious look between Scott-going through what appeared to be a bank book-and Jean,but Logan wasn't sure what it signified. 

"And you're outside time,"Logan said wryly,recalling what Bob had told him back in Los Angeles."Does that mean you are too,Helga?" 

She gave him a sly look,but he was still aware she was measuring him,like a teacher still testing a student without his knowledge."No,that's why he likes you.You virtual immortals are few and far between." 

"You think Logan is immortal?"Jean said."You're joking,right?" 

"They'd better be,"Logan grumbled,but was painfully aware that neither Bob or Helga deigned to answer her. 

As they peeled back the remains of the door,both of them using their inhuman strength to muscle it apart,he whispered quietly to Helga,"Do you really think I was an assassin?" 

Helga gave him a kind smile that seemed positively perverse,coming from her."I think there are levels of scare potential about you that no one knows about,"she admitted quietly,then added,with a lascivious wink,"but I find that so damn sexy." 

He scowled at her,worried that she was serious,but pretty sure she was.Bob liked his women scary. 

Inside the cabinet was about half dozen assault rifles on a horizontal rack near the top,and the bottom of the cabinet was covered with various awkward weapons:brass knuckles;several knives in sheaths,from switchblade to butterfly;whip thin cords that were probably garrotes,and all sorts of various objects of mayhem.But in black iron vertical racks on the sides of the cabinets were four beautiful samurai swords in black laminate scabbards,and he couldn't help but reach out and take one. 

Much heavier and intricately balanced than the sai,he slid it carefully from the scabbard.The katana was about thirty inches long from haft to tip,the blade tempered steel coated with silver,the leather wrapped handle studded with jade and rubies like the eyes of strange,extinct animals.The blade also had a very gentle upward curve at the tip,hard to see,but it was much closer to his claws than the sais downstairs,in spite of its size and the fact that his claws had a slight downward bend,mimicking the set of his fingers. 

"Ooh,somebody's in love,"Helga teased,her eyes gleaming with an evil mirth. 

He didn't know why he wasted a good death frown on her;Helga really didn't care.She glanced over her shoulder at busily hacking Bob,and said,"Hey,hon,I know what he is.He's no ninja,he's a samurai." 

Bob paused,and gave her a strangely thoughtful look."You know,Hel,I think you're on to something.That fits." 

"Fits what?"Scott wondered."Is there a kimono around here he can try on?" 

Jean tried very hard to pretend she was coughing,but he wasn't fooled for a second. 

"If you're going to make fun of me,have the decency to do it behind my back,"he snapped,sliding the sword almost violently back into its scabbard.But he was careful not to hurt it,and almost regretted putting it back.A beast like Krek didn't deserve something that nice. 

"I wasn't making fun of you Logan,"Bob said,turning back to the keyboard. 

"Neither was I,"Helga said,looking serious for a rare time in her life.She moved on to the next weapons cabinet,but he didn't see a point.And Scott didn't dare say a damn thing. 

"He's a blade man,"Logan said,if only to change the subject,as he walked across the wide loft space.Wait,what was that? 

"What do you mean?"Scott wondered,scowling at the bank book in his hands.It was different than the one before-previously it had been black;now it was brown. 

"There are types of assassins,"Helga explained,as she delivered another devastating side kick to cabinet number two."There are snipers,there are gloaters,there are professionals.Krek's probably a gloat." 

"He likes to be in close for the kill,"Logan continued,walking back towards the bathroom.Had he heard the noise over there? "The guns in the cabinet are fairly new models,but still have dust on them.The katanas and the knives were pristine.He likes to use blades,get up close on his victims-" 

"Watch them die,"Helga added,finishing his sentence for him. 

"Katanas?"Jean repeated,then put it together herself."Oh,the sword you were looking at?"He simply nodded,suddenly embarrassed for slipping again.Maybe he was just channeling something...oh yes,that was much more sane."Should we be glad he is or not?" 

"In theory,glad,"Bob replied,taking the burden of lying on him."I mean,who in this room can't defend themselves up close? You could blast 'im,Scott;Jean could toss him out a window;Helga could dismember him;I could make him spill his guts and become a Hari Krishna;and Logan-well,Logan's Logan." 

"In other words,Wartros slaw,"Helga chimed in happily.She was enjoying this way too much. 

"Become a Hari Krishna?"Logan echoed,and when Bob caught his eye he couldn't help but smile."You are a cruel and evil bastard." 

He grinned right back,and gave him a small,mock bow."It's a gift." 

Logan backed up a bit more,and tried to listen hard,ignoring the noises of the others.Sounds echoed in this wide space,so it was difficult,but he swore he could hear the tiniest sound-a sort of white noise,really.But it bugged him because he couldn't place it. 

The loft looked eerie now:burnt orange light washed over the entire loft,turning the hardwood floor into an ocean of blood,the meager furniture into disfigured shadows hunched against the white walls slowly shading into red.He had a sudden feeling they should not be here at all. 

"Speaking of gifts,"Bob said,continuing to dick around with the computer."There are going to be some very happy people in Bangladesh.Oops,there goes another bank account." 

"Which one?"Scott said,throwing aside the bank book he had in disgust."He's got them everywhere:the Grand Caymans, Antigua,the Virgin Islands,even Luxembourg.That has to be a joke." 

"No,it proves he's professional,"Helga said,pawing through more weapons."Everybody expects you to get the Swiss bank account,but nobody expects Luxembourg." 

"Most people don't even know it still exists,"Bob concurred,nodding. 

Jean finally looked over Bob's shoulder,and said,"How in the hell did you get access to his bank accounts?" 

"I point you to Logan's previous comment about me being an evil bastard,"Bob said,hitting a key and making Jean gasp. 

"You just made two million dollars disappear,"she said breathlessly. 

"No,not disappear,"he corrected her."It's just ended up with the Mercy Corps.Now there's a word Krek probably has no familiarity with.I hope one day he appreciates that irony." 

Logan backed up,and realized the tiny white noise sound-lower than a cricket,or the buzz of a dying fly:no wonder no one else had heard it-was in the tiny upper corner of where the bathroom doorway met the loft wall.He looked up into the high corner,knowing even in this dim light he could see anything,but there was nothing to see but white stucco stained dark by the waning rays of the sun. 

"I think I have a lead on the League,though,"Bob admitted,as he continued to horrify and impress Jean with his embezzlement skills."Yesterday there was a transfer of fifty thousand dollars to his Cayman Island account from an account in Jamaica,which is probably a money laundering account." 

"And that helps us how?"Jean asked. 

"If I know where the money's routed from,we're golden.And all I have to do is call that Jamaican bank,and the poor bastard who picks up the phone is going to tell me everything I want to know about these shadow accounts,up to and possibly including eight by ten glossies of the big bads making deposits with fistfuls of blood stained nickels." 

"Nice to know you're not cocky,"Scott commented sarcastically. 

The buzzing was like the drone of a bee trapped in the wall now that he was close up to it.The acoustics of the bathroom tile, since the door was opened,probably amplified the sound- 

The sound.Oh fuck. 

"There's no shame in being proud of what you can do,mate,"Bob replied jovially,still manipulating Krek's various overseas accounts.He then began to sing happily to himself again."Here comes the monolith,a brass knuckle for the hissy fit - " 

There was a bug in the wall,literally-their conversations were being taped.Or...monitored. 

Didn't he have the itchy feeling between his shoulder blades that he-they-were being watched? 

Krek had bugged his own house,assuming they'd be coming here.And he was just waiting to spring a trap. 

Logan looked back towards the window,and knew Krek was probably looking at him now and smiling. 

"Is it heavier than air-am I supposed to die alone?"Bob continued to sing under his breath,but then suddenly stopped.Bob must have noticed him out of the corner of his eye,because he gave him a curious glance."Logan?What-" 

He then glanced back towards the window,perhaps initially wondering what  he was looking at,but Logan knew when he seemed to tense,Bob felt it too. 

There was simply no time to warn the others as the entire room seem to be obliterated in a blast of white light and noise,the world imploding around them,the impact of the force so devastating their consciousness was stripped away instantaneously. 

Logan didn't even have time to regret anything before he fell straight down into darkness. 

    17 

    His consciousness came back in stages,as if it had to gather its strength along the way,crawling back to him on hands and knees and hoping it would soon be on its own feet again. 

Okay,now he knew he had a head injury. 

Senses came back first:the hollow white noise echo of the explosion ringing in his ears,the salty copper taste of his own blood in his mouth,head and muscles still aching from the force of the shockwave,the smell of charred wood and fabric and combustible chemicals abrasive to his nose,as sharp as a splash of acid. 

He knew without quite knowing how that it had been something like a concussion grenade,heavy duty-it wasn't meant to kill them,simply put them down until he could finish the job.Up close and personal.After all,he was a blade man. 

And he was here,wasn't he? 

There was a crunching noise in the ruins,faint but growing louder,growing closer,and Logan cautiously opened an eye,only to find he was stomach down on the floor,head turned somewhat painfully to the side,yet away from the noise.There were small particulate clouds of plaster dust still suspended in the air as if frozen in time,occasionally riding the swirls of air currents from the outside,and the floor of the loft was covered in pulverized glass that glittered like ice,the rays of the dying sun turning it bloody crimson. 

At least he hoped it was just the sun. 

Logan then understood it wasn't only because Krek wanted to finish the job himself that the explosive had only been concussive-he wanted to preserve as much of his stuff as possible.Capitalism at its finest.But hey,Bob had just fucked over his bank accounts,so maybe he needed to save everything he could. 

The crunching was louder now,footsteps on broken glass and chunks of plaster ,and on top of that,he could hear the man muttering to himself,his voice like dried bones being ground against the sides of a coffin,"Too easy,too easy." 

Then there was the sharp and deadly noise of a sword being withdrawn from its sheath,a noise that felt like ice water,and he turned his head,suddenly aware he was not the target. 

Several feet away from him in the debris blasted loft was a form that could only be a person-who he couldn't tell-and the dark, thick figure of the demon seemed to grow out of the darkness around them,a sword in its hands glinting dull silver in the dim light,and as Logan watched-either unnoticed or dismissed as helpless-Krek raised the sword like Merlin about to plunge Excaliber into the stone. 

Although there seemed to be a significant lag time between his brain and his body,Logan mentally screamed at himself to move and he did,getting up to his knees and lunging at the targeted person,hoping he had moved in time. 

Luckily-and yet sadly-he had.He had just draped himself over the insensate form when Krek drove the sword home,straight into Logan's back and through his body. 

But not all the way through. 

He felt as well as heard the blade hit one of his adamantium ribs,and with all the force Krek had put on the sword to try and skewer the both of them,the blade snapped deep inside Logan's body,unable to break through the virtually indestructible metal. Krek made a noise of horror (favorite sword?) at the loss while Logan,unconsciously snarling from the pain-which had also, ironically,energized him,dumping adrenaline into his system by the truckload-popped the claws of his right hand and slashed out,ripping across the thick leg of Krek and tearing out big chunks of rubbery,ghost white flesh on his thigh. 

Krek screeched in pain,stumbling back a step as Logan threw himself off the body (belatedly,he realized it was Bob.Which made sense-take out the most threatening figure first),trying to draw Krek's attention away from the others and towards him. Not that he knew exactly what he was going to do. 

Krek was the weirdest looking demon he had ever seen.Slightly taller than Bob and almost twice as thick,he could have passed for human if you were extremely myopic:his flesh was a ghostly white,but up close seemed to have faint scales like a snake,and his short white hair looked more like fiber optic cables springing from his bulbous head,which seemed to grow straight out of his broad shoulders without aid of a neck,like a canker.His face was flat and almost featureless,save for his narrow pink slit eyes,pencil stub like flat nose,and dark slash of a mouth that seemed as lipless and wide as a reptile's toothless maw. 

His six thin arms were arranged three a side from his shoulders to his waist (which was the third arm?),which you'd think would make it impossible for him to buy clothes,but he wore body armor of black metal mesh that could be mistaken for actual clothes if you didn't look too closely,or hear the faint jangle of metal as he moved,on two thick legs that could have doubled as marble pillars. 

But as he watched,the gash on his thigh healed up as instantaneously as if the wound had been made to Logan instead.Krek may have smiled at him,but without lips his mouth looked like a raw pink wound that never healed,so there was no differentiation between a smile or a scream."Still got some fight left in you,ronin?"Krek hissed,proving he had been listening to their conversations since they entered the house :a ronin was a samurai without a master. 

The blade was still wedged in Logan's back,a deeply unpleasant,cold sensation that didn't hurt as much as the strange twinge on the right side of his chest;something deep inside his torso was tightening like a fist,making it harder and harder for him to breathe.It was a familiar sensation,bringing back memories of the time that Wesley,under Shrike's control,shot him in the back-Krek had managed to puncture one of his lungs.At least it was just the one this time:Wes had taken out both. 

Even though Krek had nothing more than a hilt with a jagged stump of a blade left,he still lunged at him,either snarling or yawning (really hard to tell),and Logan jumped up to meet his charge,claw slashing.Even as the remained of the sword shattered into a thousand silver slivers,Logan knew it had been a ruse,but it was too late.One of Krek's snake like arms had grabbed him by the hair and flung him backward,straight into an intact wall. 

And the impact shoved the blade in his back all the way through. 

Logan screamed at the pain as he felt the blade,forced into a new angle by impact,literally spark against an adamantium rib and puncture his newly healing lung as it burst through his chest,just beneath his right pectoral muscle.The pain shot red sparks in his vision,the sensation of an invisible band wrapping tight around his chest increasing as he panted for breath and grabbed the bloody tip of the sword that was sticking about two inches out from him.The blade was so sharp it sliced into his hand as he grabbed it,but even with blood pouring from his hand,making his palm slick,he held it tight,growling through the pain even as it scraped the adamantium bones in his hand,and started pulling the fucking thing out. 

His consciousness felt slippery-he had to lean back against the wall as his knees threatened to buckle-but he focused on the pain,a red light in his vision growing brighter and painting the room a relentless crimson hue.But even as he felt the blade starting to give,ripping through the muscles of his chest walls as he pulled it through,his body trying to heal over and around it,he could see Krek flowing towards him,seemingly gliding more than walking,as quick as a raptor swooping down for the kill.And even though his sword was gone,something new and silver gleamed in the demon's hands. 

As he slashed it towards his face,Logan pulled the broken blade through his chest,and rammed it straight into one of Krek's albino pink eyes. 

He screamed in horror as much as agony as the sword blade punched its way into his skull,while Logan reeled from  the knife blade that slashed across his face,cutting open his left eye and leaving him with nothing but a view from the right.He wasn't concerned-his eye would heal.But would Krek's eye grow back? 

He gave Krek a boot in the midsection to try and back him off,but even with a blade jammed in his eye socket the bastard remained where he was,a statue made of granite,and he saw the knife slashing down into his left side blind spot so he popped the claws of his almost healed left hand and slashed out,hoping instinct would guide him. 

It must have,because Krek shrieked again,a high,harsh sound like a tom cat on the losing end of a fight,and some sort of whitish fluid splashed on his torn and blood soaked shirt.Krek's blood? 

Yes-there was a hand grasping a knife now on the floor at his feet. 

Logan popped his other claws and lashed out-if he had no arms to fight with,what good would he be?-but even as he knew he hit home and severed at least one more of Krek's arms,another of Krek's arms grabbed his throat on the left side and he felt something sink in as he slashed through the arm,prick his skin like the stinger of a wasp. 

Krek knew he was getting less limbs to lose by the minute and quickly backed off,but as Logan tried to move in for the kill,his left leg seemed to buckle,and he crashed down onto his knee,a pain that was negligible to all the others. 

"My own fucking blade,"Krek rasped,grabbing the sword fragment wedged in his eye socket and yanking it out with another scream of pain and a slight stagger.He had only three arms right now-well,at least for the moment-two on the left and one on the right,so he looked lopsided.But he seemed to regain his balance quickly,and tossed the sword remnant aside."You knew how much that would hurt,you fucking freak.Wanted to kill me with my own sword.Asshole!"He sounded righteously pissed, even if his froggy face was just contorted into an unreadable expression. 

His left eye socket was now an empty black hole,although there looked to be a splash of something gelatinous on one of his broad,flat cheeks that could very well have been vitreous humor.Logan kept trying to get up,but it was as if his body was shutting down and no longer taking his commands.And he felt something acidic in his veins,burning through him like black fire,and as he struggled to breathe,he remembered what Bob had said about Krek's third claw:"...deadliest neurotoxin in the known universe..." 

Oh shit.He hoped his immune system was up to the task of fighting it off. 

"Shithead!"Krek continued to rant,white blood continuing to flow from his three stumps like water from a garden hose."What if my arms don't grow back?!" 

Logan wanted to answer that-oh,did he-but attempting to work his throat he found he couldn't;he couldn't even swallow.He tried to keep his balance,tried to will away the black fire flaring through his bloodstream,but he couldn't.He fell over onto his back,his body a useless side of beef,numb and immobile,except it still felt pain.His left eye-which had cycled through black nothingness to the more hopeful red nothingness-still burned,and he could feel the vise like tightness in his chest increasing, as the neurotoxin seemed to interfere with his healing process,and his lung was caught in mid-recovery.His heart was now beating an erratic tattoo that made his blood roaring in his ears sound like a tsunami,almost but not quite blocking out the sounds of Krek. 

He heard him crossing the room,and feverishly hoped that Krek didn't start killing,because he couldn't move,he was paralyzed like he had been in that fucking Alkali Lake tank,and if he started killing others while he was forced to lay here and listen,unable to do anything about it,helpless to even scream,he would go fucking mad:his fragile mind would shatter like spun glass. 

He could feel muscles in his body spasming now,as if his system was trying to rally a physical defense against the poison,but it wasn't working;muscles stretched,went taut to the edge of their limits and nearly beyond,and he realized these involuntary spasms might actually tear tendons,pull muscles away from bone,and the pain was excruciating.He tried to take some comfort in the fact that he had cut off the fucker's third arm as soon as he 'stung' him:he couldn't kill anyone else like this. 

The vision in his right eye was going now,a grey fog slowly eclipsing the light,and he wondered if it was real or all in his mind. 

"This was the katana you were admiring,wasn't it,ronin?"Krek said,the anger in his voice replaced with a frigid coldness that went all the way down to bone.Eventually,he entered Logan's extremely limited range of vision,a white form like the negative of a shadow,holding a slim bladed sword that looked almost black in the rapidly dying light.His lungs and brain were now screaming for oxygen,but up until that point,he had been unaware he had stopped breathing."You know,I was given the word to spare you,and I intended to,but you had to be a mutie moron and piss me off.Course,if I knew you were this much of an asshole,I'd never have even considered it in the first place." 

Logan's vision had faded down to a pinhole of light in a very dark tunnel,and suddenly things didn't hurt so much anymore: he felt like he was hovering inside his own body,floating on a lake of fire,and it occurred to him he might actually die for good this time.A part of him didn't want to die and struggled to hang on,to urge his body to fight this off,while another half of him could only think of the peace:no more fighting,no more searching,just blissful nothingness-sleep at last.He really didn't know which side was winning,or which one to root for. 

Krek stood over him and raised the sword like he was going to chop his head neatly off-impossible with his adamantium spine,but surely very painful-and said something that sounded like,"Que sera sera."He wasn't sure:the thudding of his frantic heart was almost all he could hear now. 

But just as the blade was coming down,a swift arc of shadow that seemed unreal somehow,dreamlike in his dying moments,he heard very faintly,as if shouted from another room:"You're dead." 

That seemed funny to Logan-he knew that already-but rather than the blade continuing its downward arc,Krek himself seemed to fold,crumple like a piece of paper tossed into a fireplace,and hit the floor beside Logan,almost falling on his own sword. 

Logan was distantly aware of the feeling of impact beside him,but didn't really hear it. 

Just as everything faded to black he saw a face with neon blue lights for eyes leaning over his,maybe saying his name,but he didn't know or care.Logan could do nothing to stop his own fall into that final,blissful sleep,and would never know if he even tried to stop it or not. 

** 

    Bob wasn't sure what had happened,not at first.But the way his head throbbed like an infected boil told him all he needed to know. 

Explosion-again.Goddamn it,how many times did a guy have to get blown up in his life?It seemed so bloody unfair. 

Through the hazy black fog of pain,his head began to slowly clear,and he heard mumbling,by a voice so painfully raspy it was hard to listen to.It said something about a katana,though. 

It was then he smelled it:oh sure,the smell of the blast,charred material and the scent of the grenade itself,like an ozone charged burst of smog,but there was a cloying scent too,closer and far more familiar.Blood. 

Not his own. 

His sense of smell was not as well developed as a vampire's-or Logan's-but thanks to their little escapade in Death Valley,he knew the smell of Logan's blood and how it had a very different smell than most human blood.It was an undertone really;it had a sharper metallic bite,probably due to the adamantium in his body,but really that was just a guess.It was possible it always smelled like that. 

He could smell it now,and even before he opened his eyes he knew the wet patches on his shirt,making it cling to his chest, were spots of Logan's metal heavy blood. 

He was instantly concerned,regardless of the fact that he always healed;if the blast made Logan bleed for any length of time,it was a bad one.Also,he hadn't been that close to him in the room,had he? 

He opened his eyes,which were determined to remain unfocused for just a second longer,and found the light was still heavy and crimson,like a red gel light had eclipsed the sun.In his mind,something insisted on saying 'Red sky at night,sailor's delight'.That's what happened when you got blown up too much. 

There was a strange noise off to his left,in the direction of the painfully harsh voice:a sort of faint,not quite rhythmic tapping. He looked,and in a single second his still foggy mind took in several things simultaneously. 

Krek was obviously here,but several of his arms had gone mysteriously AWOL,and he was bleeding like a fountain.In two of his remaining three arms he held a samurai sword,much like the one Logan had seemed to recognize;Logan was on the floor at Krek's feet,not moving,except for violent spasm in his arms (the tapping noise-the claws on both hands were still sprung, possibly now locked due to muscular contractions,and the tips of his claws hit some debris with every other spasm).He had a big rip in his white blood spattered shirt,where it was possible to see the remains of a mysteriously unhealed gash,although it was not quite as raw and livid as the horizontal slash across the left side of his face,which had cut open his left eye and left it as red as a ruby.It was also obvious he was no longer breathing,his body strangely still even as the paroxsyms in his muscles made it look like he was moving.Krek was talking to him,but Bob barely heard him,as a scene suddenly came together in his mind. 

He had Logan's blood on him because Logan had fought for him.He either didn't lose consciousness,or didn't lose it for long; either way,Krek came for Bob first,and Logan intervened,getting injured in the process,although he obviously took the battle to Krek and relieved him of several superfluous arms. 

But not the third one,not in time.The toxin was killing Logan,but Krek wanted to get in one last blow,one last hurt,so he would be the last thing Logan saw,and he could get a personal jolly off of watching him die. 

Bob still felt weak,his limbs were like jelly,his muscles still reverberating the shock of the explosion that might have hurt the others very much-they were not as indestructable as he was.Or Logan. 

But he was instantly furious,like he had not been in a very long time:anger was a roar that filled ears,and sharpened his vision to a bright and deadly hue of pure electric blue. 

Nobody died for him,nobody died in his place.It did not happen,not on his watch.Not when he could stop it. 

Krek raised the sword over his head and brought it down,and Bob spat at him,"You're dead." 

And just like that,Krek was. 

His body seemed to fold in on itself,as if given a fatal blow by an invisible assailant,and collapsed bonelessly to the floor beside the supine and dying Logan. 


	11. Part 11

Unable to walk just yet he hastily crawled over to Logan on his hands and knees,stepping on Krek's body and not giving a toss;the fucker deserved so much worse than the swift and merciful death he just received. 

"Logan,"he said,hoping to reach him,but he looked down at his bloodied face just in time to see the light die in his one intact eye.His face was the last thing Logan saw. 

Because Logan was dead. 

No. 

Bob took Logan's head in his hands and closed his eyes,concentrating on reaching out mentally to Logan before the last shred of him slipped away completely. 

    18 

    The peaceful darkness was shattered violently:a blue-white light seemed to expand,eat away the darkness,a burst like the supernova of a young and unstable star somewhere deep inside his mind. 

Logan could feel the shockwaves of the explosion filling him,traveling through his body and dragging warmth in its wake, warmth and light,as if his body was now the confines of a universe,a prison for this energy. 

He gasped in a breath,as if surfacing from a long,hard swim beneath dark and heavy water,and his eyes shot open as he instantly wondered where he was and what had happened.He had the feeling something had happened,but right now he couldn't remember... 

There was a man kneeling beside him,his hands on his temples,and Logan's first impulse was to pop his claws and stab him:he was part of this thing,this thing that happened- 

("You remember,Logan,"a voice said in his head,a voice that sounded nothing like his own) 

-and he did know then,memories flooding back as if a dam in his mind had burst. 

Bob opened his eyes,chatoyant blue in the near dark,and asked,"You okay?" 

Logan just blinked up at him for a moment,aware that that question was pretty damn funny. 

Had he just died? 

Of course,Logan was reasonably sure he had died before;at least for a second or two.But his body always seemed to drag him back,kicking and screaming,from the edge of the abyss.It didn't matter how badly he was hurt,how rattled his brains were inside his skull or how much of his actual physical body was torn away- 

(Torn away?Wait a sec-when had he been 'torn away' exactly?) 

-it refused to die,refused to just let him go.In a strange way,it was as much a curse as a gift.Healing kind of hurt;the worse the injury,the more painful the healing process.He could actually feel his skin and muscle knit itself back together,organs come back together,feelings so bizarre they could only be described as pain because there was no other word for it.He was used to it by now,of course,but he was always aware of the pain when it happened. 

Logan knew it wasn't the same this time.He could remember his lung was not fully knit together or re-inflated when the toxin seemed to arrest the process,and his eye hadn't healed over either;his chest was also still closing from the sword wound.But they were fine now.He was looking out of two perfectly good eyes,he had two functioning lungs,and there was no pain in his chest:there was no pain at all,no negligible ache from bruises,not even a pain in his neck where Krek's claw had punctured his carotid artery. 

It was not his body that brought him back from the abyss this time. 

His eyes met Bob's,and he wanted to ask him what he did-holy crap,had he brought him back from the dead?He must have; there was simply no other explanation for it.He was dead,but Bob caught him and pulled him back,in the process mending all his wounds,just like he had taken a stroll through Jean's unconscious mind and put her back together. But...couldn't he only work with minds that were functioning on some level?He died;his mind shut down.There was nothing to work with... 

"How?"Logan asked.There seemed to be nothing else to say. 

"I would destroy anyone else's mind in the process,"he admitted."But not yours." 

Was that the truth,or the best excuse he could come up with?Logan couldn't really tell. 

But he knew the toxin was gone,the pain was gone,and so was Krek-he could smell death all over him,even though he couldn't say how he had died.Except Bob had willed Krek dead,and then willed Logan back to life:trading one for another. 

Bob actually looked tired,lines bunching in the corners of his inhuman eyes,and Logan realized he had expended some of his formidable powers on him;perhaps he had even given him the power to live through this. 

Why?Why even bother with him?He felt strangely angry at him,for feeling he was indebted to Bob for this,and for feeling that he would never understand him,not in a million years.Why Bob seemed to be protective of him would always be a mystery- 

-except it really wasn't,was it?They were 'outside time',and as Bob himself had said,outsiders were drawn to one another. 

Bob was lonely. 

He had some expansive brood of a family,never wanted for female companionship,but inevitably outlived everyone he knew; only in Logan did he see the potential of knowing someone he would see again in fifty years,or a hundred.Maybe even a thousand.Bob was a demon,and he was a mutant,but they were both prisoners of time. 

It was funny,it was pathetic,and ultimately it was very sad-and yet Logan couldn't hate him for it.Some small part of Logan's mind found a simple comfort in knowing someone who might not be taken from him by death or disease,age or whatever other form time took to steal people away from him.And while he had no clear memories,he knew he understood Bob's quiet loneliness because it very much echoed his own. 

They were both sad,pathetic men.They probably deserved each other. 

"How are the others?"Logan finally said. 

"I don't know,"Bob admitted,getting to his feet."But they'll be fine." 

Logan got to his feet too,feeling better than he had before the fight,and knew that was true.Bob would make sure everyone was fine. 

Except Krek,of course.But he should have known better than to try and rob Bob of the only other true 'outsider' he had ever known. 

** 

    Back at the mansion,Logan went off to his room to think while Bob called the bank in Jamaica and do his thing on them,and the others filled in Xavier on what went on.Logan had no interest in a debrief,or anything else:something weird had happened to him,and he still had no idea how he felt about it. 

He hadn't told the others he had died;he also claimed he killed Krek.Bob was going to tell them the truth,but he shook his head and sent a clear signal that he didn't want him to,because to say he had done it would be to eventually admit the rest of it.And after glancing at all the sheared off limbs and the hole in his head where an eye used to be,no one had any trouble believing Logan had indeed killed Krek before he could finish the job he started. 

Logan wished that was all that was bothering him,but as usual his troubles had company. 

He laid down on his bed and pressed the heels of his palms in his eyes until he could see a growing,shifting pattern of light in the darkness behind his eyelids.Krek was supposed to spare him...why? 

Oh,he knew why.He just hated to admit it.Much like him,some problems just wouldn't stay dead. 

After a few minutes,there was a light rapping on his door,and he snapped,"Go away." 

But he should have known that would not be enough.He heard the door open,and Jean said,"I would if I could,but I think this is important,Logan." 

"Are we under attack again?"He didn't bother to move his hands from his eyes:he knew what she looked like,and all enemies had the same sort of general ugliness. 

"No.Bob was able to find out something about the League,"she said,stepping into the room and closing the door behind her.  
"Apparently they're connected to a man named Rhonik,whom Helga says is the leader of some sort of demon 'mob' that controls the lower East Side.Bob thinks the personal angle of this may be overstated,and this is purely business-Rhonik eliminating what he sees as competition,since he's no fan of mutants." 

"It's a hell of a lot more than that,and Bob knows it."He could hear her walking around the room,sense the shift in the air when she moved,and knew from the smell of fabric softener she had changed her clothes since they got back.She probably hated being covered by plaster dust.She stopped on the left side of the room,close to the wardrobe. 

"Why would he lie?"There was a tone in her voice that suggested she always knew it,but wasn't going to say it. 

"I don't know,"he said,and wondered if he was lying.He had asked Bob not to mention what really happened with Krek-maybe this was just an off shoot of that. 

"Then what is he lying about?"She asked curiously. 

"There's a government connection.Maybe Arsenal is dead,but somebody still holds a grudge.And they remember me."He lifted his hands and opened his eyes,enjoying the new light show as his eyes focused on the light fixture in the ceiling above him. 

She seemed strangely silent for longer than he would have expected,and then finally asked,sounding dead serious,"What do you know that we don't,Logan?" 

He sat up on the edge of the bed and gazed at her wearily,hands resting loosely on his thighs.She had changed into a red acrylic sweater dress that came just below her knees,hiding most of what he knew to be a pair of lovely legs,although the dress itself seemed to favor her curves.Although he couldn't remember any of his teachers,he bet none of them ever dressed like that.  
"Krek said he was supposed to spare me.From what I gathered,it was a last minute change of plans." 

Her hazel eyes were kind but very scrutinizing,and he recalled she had looked strangely doubtful when he made the claims of killing Krek.He was not as facile a liar as Bob it seemed,which was strange since so much of his life was one big fat lie."Spare you?Why?"But she seemed to put it together even as she asked."Wait.You don't think-" 

"They want me alive,"he said,finishing the thought.And Krek had almost queered the pitch on that one,hadn't he? 

Jean crossed her arms over her chest,looking at the far side or the room without seeing it,lost in thought.He wondered why she put her hair back in that tight ponytail again:she was a beautiful woman,but that style was not flattering to her.Maybe Scott liked it. 

When her eyes moved back to his,they seemed haunted with a touch of pity."You think it's the same people,the people who-" 

"Turned me into a human sized food processor,yeah,"he supplied,since she obviously didn't know how to say it,or which description to choose. 

She frowned at him,perhaps not seeing the humor in mutilation,but hey-if he could make fun of it,why couldn't she join in? 

"There may be another reason,"she began,but he shook his head immediately. 

"Trust me,there's not.The League are working with some government agency-hell,maybe just a rogue agent-to..."Suddenly,he saw a connection he hadn't seen before."Me and Xavier,"he whispered,stunned that the thought hadn't occurred to him immediately. 

"What?Logan,what-" 

"They want us both alive."He stared at Jean,aware the shock on her face was probably mimicking his own."Krek,like Legion before him,was supposed to kill Xavier's people,but not Xavier himself.They wanted to remove obstacles until they could get a clear shot at him.And then I came along,and they saw they had a second target."He suddenly felt so energized with equal amounts of revelation and rage he jumped to his feet,fighting the urge to start pacing again."They wanted to experiment on him too,but Magneto robbed them of their chance,and sent them even deeper underground,lower into the covert levels,where the bastard child that emerged from it grew into the outfit that kidnapped me.Shit,Jean,they still want him.And me too." 

She considered that carefully,fear and anger starting to show through her studiously neutral expression."But why?" 

"They still want to use me as a weapon-they did it before,they're convinced they can do it again.And I'm sure I was a multi-million dollar investment:adamantium isn't cheap.As for Xavier...just imagine if they could control him too,turn him like they turned me.Think of the damage he could do.I get them physically,and he gets them mentally." 

Horror bloomed in her eyes as she contemplated the damage an evil telepath as strong as Xavier could do,and she bit her lip anxiously as she tried to examine his theory for loopholes."Why use the League?"She finally asked."Why not come in themselves?They have with you,haven't they?" 

He didn't have to think about that for long."Yeah,but darlin' I'm not a telepath:I can't make men turn their weapons on each other,or think I just got the fuck out of there.I can only hurt them very badly,if they aren't wearing those fucking adamantium body armor suits.And even then...well,give me time.It's hard,but not impossible."He hoped he remembered to thank Angel for finding the weak spot in those damn things. 

Jean got it then,he could see it in her eyes."And the Professor's telepathy doesn't work on all demons." 

"Bingo." 

She grabbed his arms with surprising force."Why did Bob lie about this?Logan,I want to trust him,I do,but I can't." 

"I don't think Bob has made the connection;I think Bob is still working on the assumption they want Xavier dead,probably out of revenge.Certainly the Professor seems to be favoring that theory." 

"He's a demon.He could be working for them." 

"If he was,I'd be talking to a ghost from inside some sort of brainwashing contraption right now.Look,I'm not saying I trust him completely in everything,'cause believe me I don't,but I know,beyond a shadow of a doubt,he would never hurt us.If I thought he would,I'd kill him myself."If that was even possible,he thought,but there was no point in adding that. 

"Listen to yourself,Logan.Since when do you have that kind of faith in anyone?Don't you think it's odd?" 

"Yeah,but.."he sighed,wondering how much he would have to tell her."I've seen him in action:I know how powerful he is.If he wanted to run the whole goddamn world we'd be praying to his altars nightly.But he's not that kind of man,Jean.For some stupid goddamn reason,he likes people;he doesn't want to see them hurt.And I know,for some insane reason,he seems to like me.He knows how much you mean to me and he'd never hurt you."Belatedly,he remembered to add,"All of you." 

She looked momentarily startled,her grip on his biceps loosening somewhat,but then she seemed to make the decision to believe he really was speaking of an all encompassing 'you',and not just about her."I want to believe you,Logan.And I know he's powerful;I started to get a headache when I stood too close to him.But there's just something about him that I can't trust-I don't know what.I mean,if he's so powerful,he could hurt us and we'd never remember it." 

"True.But he's not that kind of man." 

"You can't say that for sure!Just because he hasn't seemingly abused his powers in front of you-" 

"Actually,I think he did,"he blurted,before he could stop himself.He then rolled his eyes at himself:he was no good to anyone when he was this emotionally worked up.But damn it,he had the plot now-he knew what those bastards were doing,and now he wanted to meet them half way,and make Magneto look like a fucking interior decorator. 

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously,and her grip on his arms tightened again.If he didn't know better,he'd think she was feeling his muscles.Well,it would be a novelty to her;old Cyclops didn't seem to have a whole lot of those."What do you mean?" 

"It wasn't in a bad sense.I think.Depends on how you look at it,I suppose-" 

"Logan,"she said,in her best stern teacher voice. 

He probably would have laughed if this all didn't suck so much."I tell you,you have to promise me you don't tell anyone,not even Scott.Okay?" 

"I can't-" 

"Promise me,"he insisted. 

For a moment her eyes bore into his,curiosity warring with a strange reluctance to keep secrets from her boyfriend (which he knew was hypocritical,because everyone kept secrets:no one was completely one hundred percent open with their lover or their spouse.No relationship would ever survive if that were true:little white lies-and huge fat ones-were the lubricants of  societal functioning in general).He could see the surrender in her slumping shoulders before she admitted,with a sigh of reluctance,"Fine,I promise."She let his arms go,and he was sort of sorry about that;it was fun to think she may have been feeling him up. 

He wasn't even sure he could tell her,but the words came out quickly,like he had been dying-no pun intended-to tell someone.Maybe he had."I didn't kill Krek.Bob killed him after he had killed me." 

Her gaze was steady,her expression somewhere between neutral normal and completely baffled."You mean before he could kill you?" 

"No.Krek killed me.He had a claw with his toxin in it,a poison that was too much for my system to handle,maybe because it was demon,I don't know.But it killed me,Jean.In spite of all the things I can't remember,I can remember dying very clearly, right up until my very last thought.You know how creepy that is?"And what a wasted thought too:nothing profound,nothing noble,simply "It's over," with an equal mixture of fear and relief,like an actor glad to be done with a play after the thousandth performance,but terrified that he wouldn't know what to do with himself now. 

Jean continued to stare at him,disbelief warring with fear,and her jaw slackened as she came to the realization,"You're not joking." 

"No,I'm not.I'm pretty sure I've technically died before,for at least a second or two,but this was different somehow.I think I'd have stayed dead if Bob hadn't intervened." 

Her eyes shone with fear and relief,much like he had felt while it was happening,and she said,"Why didn't you tell us this? What did he do?" 

"I don't know know what he did exactly,except it seemed to tire him out for a moment.And why the hell would I tell you guys?It's not like it matters-" 

"It does matter,"she insisted.It looked like there were tears welling in her eyes."If something happened to you,Logan..." 

"What?"He wondered,curious.He wanted to know what she would say,if she would confess that her whole life with Scott was a lie,and she had to have him now. 

Maybe it showed on his face.She seemed to hesitate,reconsider,and then said,with a sly smile,"Scott would have no one to argue with." 

Damn.He should have known she would chicken out.He smirked at her,and replied,"I'm sure he'd live."He then turned away towards the door,eager to talk to Bob about this.He thought he had a plan... 

She grabbed his arm,and said,"I'd miss you."She gave him a warm,soft smile,a hint of sadness still lingering in her eyes,and he wondered what she'd do if he kissed her right now.He bet she'd like it,which is why he didn't do it.Make her work for it. 

He gave her a sly grin."You're the only one here who would.But I appreciate that." 

Logan gave her a wink and left his room,headed for Xavier's office,where he assumed the others were waiting.As much as he would love to get Jean to admit how she felt about him,that  could wait until another time. 

Right now,he just wanted to kick some ass. 

    19 

    Bob really could have kicked himself:as soon as Logan said it.It made perfect sense. 

The Professor was not,by nature,an overly expressive man:he could have been honorary upper class British.But he gave Logan an appreciative look that suggested he was not only impressed,but slightly guilty for having missed the connection."So it could be related to what happened to you.I'm sorry I didn't see it." 

Logan shrugged,and said with unaccustomed modesty,"It took me a while too." 

"We don't know for sure that is what's going on here,"Scott said,playing devil's advocate.But even he didn't sound terribly convinced of it. 

Everybody seemed to have taken their usual positions:Scott and Jean were together on the couch,Rogue was sitting in a chair far from the others,the Professor was positioned behind his desk,and Logan was pacing relentlessly by the door,so ready for action he was giving off waves of adrenaline.Helga sat perched on the edge of Xavier's desk-he didn't seem to mind,and she sat on the far corner,so she didn't block his view-and Bob leaned against the wall,closer to Rogue than anyone else. Although it was night,the outside perimeter of the grounds was so well lit it was like a second dawn outside the gauzy white curtains covering the huge bay window:light oozed around the edges,bleeding through like an aura. 

"I think we can trust Logan's judgment here,"Bob said."He knows how these people work." 

"I bet Rhonik may be in the dark about these guys being government,"Helga interjected,her tail twitching slightly in reflection of her thoughts."Either that,or he left his contractors in the dark.These guys have no love of the government either." 

"And there's an angle we can work,"Bob agreed."If Rhonik lied to his contractors about the nature of the business,they won't be happy about it.And unhappy demons-and the humans who run with them-are not the forgiving sort." 

"But will that be enough to call off their dogs?"Scott asked. 

"I wouldn't count on it.If the League falls apart-which I'm sure it will-they can just go to mercs,or some other group.It would get them off your back for a while,though." 

"No way,"Logan insisted angrily,knocking off his pacing for a moment."We get these fuckers now." 

Jean grimaced at his use of language,completely ignoring the fact that not only did most teenagers talk worse than that,but Rogue had absorbed Logan twice:she had probably experienced a hell of a lot worse."And how do you propose we do that?" 

And Logan told them his plan,which was just as suicidally insane as Bob had expected from him. 

Jean's jaw dropped,but everybody was stunned,even the stoic Professor.Well,not Helga-since she had figured Logan had once been an assassin-whether against his will or not-she felt she had his number."You can't be serious,"Jean gasped,speaking for almost all of them. 

He gave her a harsh look that hinted at how much anger was behind this.Yes,it seemed suicidal,and it was,but Logan was a gambler who knew you had to take a big risk to get a big pay off,and he felt that ultimately he had an ace in the hole that these guys could not beat.Bob hoped he didn't disappoint."We give them what they want-well,part of it-and we have an edge.They won't expect it." 

"Because it's crazy,"Scott pointed out.But he didn't sound judgmental;he was just dispassionately noting the fact. 

"And Magneto had the right idea,for once in his life,"Logan continued."You bring things down from the inside easier than you do the outside." 

"But what if somethin' bad happens to you?"Rogue asked,genuinely concerned."I mean,after all they've done-" 

"I can handle it,"Logan interrupted,cutting her off."I've had worse than they can dish out in a short amount of time.They saw to that." 

"Why not just lure them in?"Bob suggested,crossing his arms over his chest.He knew Logan would never go for it-he probably needed to do this for himself,attempt to expunge some of the demons living inside of him-but Bob felt he had to try."I can make them talk." 

"I don't want the small potatoes,Bob,"he countered."The guys who simply take orders and don't ask why.I want the inner circle,the people who know too much.I want you to pick their brains until there's nothin' left." 

"If there are demons involved,there may be some problems in that,"Xavier gently pointed out. 

"There aren't,not in the government project,not with their knowledge,"Helga said."For one thing,they'd have sent them after you without going to an outside contractor if they had 'em.And second,I think Arsenal failed because they were trying to work demons and mutants together,and since demons generally have a counter agenda,good luck."She looked fidgety,but probably because she had been told she couldn't smoke in here,and she desperately wanted a cigarette. 

"But they will be expecting us,"Jean argued.She had grabbed Scott's hand for support,although it was strange really:she didn't want Logan to risk himself like this so badly the concern and furious anxiety almost made her eyes glow like embers."It's too dangerous,Logan." 

Logan nodded in agreement,seemingly noting the concern for him and grimacing at it,but it didn't weaken his resolve in the least."They'll be ready for you,but they won't be ready for Bob." 

"Nobody's ready for Bob,"Helga said,and it made him feel a surge of pride.It was true,of course,but always nice to hear it. 

"Got an address for us to check out,Helga?"Logan asked,determined to go on with his plan,consensus or not. 

"Yeah,I do,but  I bet they'll be expecting us after that dust up at Krek's place." 

"Great,just what I was counting on.Come on,Scott,up for a plan bound to go horribly wrong?" 

Scott sighed wearily,giving Jean's hand an affectionate pat before he unlaced his fingers from hers."Sure,why not?" 

As he stood up,Jean did as well,and so did Rogue,which made Logan shake his head."No,just Scott and me.The rest of you stay here." 

"Absolutely not."Jean insisted. 

"No way,I ain't staying behind again!"Rogue chimed in,sounding personally offended. 

"I have to go,"Helga said quietly,and not without a bit of irony."I know the address." 

"We're just on reconnaissance,"Logan said,his eagerness to leave reflected in the sudden tension in his frame:it was like every single muscle he had was tensed for action.He'd never admit it,of course,but some small part of Logan was terrified.Still,he was going to forge on regardless because he wanted to end this now,damn his own fear.You had to admire that kind of brazen courage and bottomless rage."We ain't lookin' for a fight.But assuming we're being visually monitored,I suggest you make it look like you're getting ready for a brawl here.It'll sell the story." 

"I really should go,"Bob said to Logan,aware even as he said it there was pretty much a Slayer's chance in hell of that happening. 

Logan's look was surprisingly sympathetic-he did want him to come along.He just couldn't justify it."If they have the slightest inkling of what you are,Bob,what's going to happen won't be plausible if you're around." 

"And it's plausible if I am?"Scott asked,shrugging on his navy blue canvas jacket. 

Logan smirked at him."This from the guy who was knocked out twenty seconds into our fight with the Ressiks." 

"At least I'm not the guy who almost got his eye shot out." 

"Almost doesn't-" 

"Hey,"Bob interrupted."If it'll put an end to all this pointless bickering,please keep in mind I have the biggest penis here. Now,commence piss fighting again." 

Rogue erupted in gales of laughter,while Jean hid her face in her hands,clearly trying not to laugh;even the Professor cracked a smile.Both Scott and Logan glowered at him,matching each other scowl for scowl,which was pretty funny in itself. 

"I don't know about that,old man,"Helga drawled,levering herself onto her feet,and gave Logan a sly glance before she looked back at him."Sure he's not a relative of yours?" 

Bob grinned at her."Well,you never know.I'm a slut." 

"I know,that's why you're so fun,"she said,her tail giving him a brief pinch on the ass before she joined Scott and Logan by the door."We ready to roll?" 

"As ready as we'll ever be,"Logan said,opening the door. 

"I can't just stay here,"Jean insisted,serious once more,wringing her hands together nervously. 

"Yeah,me too,"Rogue offered,although it was hard for her to keep from laughing. 

Scott was hard to read,as those visors of his always covered up the most expressive part of his face,but he seemed to be genuinely sympathetic."I don't want you to get hurt,Jean,and certainly not in an operation as senseless as this one." 

"I can handle myself." 

"I know.But please,stay here for me." 

She frowned deeply,reluctant to let it go so easily,but Bob sensed some kind of guilt there too,driving her to comply with Scott's request.Her eyes shifted briefly to Logan and then back to Scott,and Bob knew what the guilt was about.It was always hard to be the fulcrum in a triangle."I don't want you to be hurt,"Jean finally said,and he knew it was addressed to both Logan and Scott equally. 

"Don't worry,"Helga interjected,giving her a cheesy,insincere grin."I'll make sure not a blow dried hair on Malibu Mutant Ken's head is permanently hurt."Helga knew Jean meant it for both men;she simply wasn't concerned that Logan would be hurt in a way that he wouldn't come back from.He was a survivor,which always earned some of Helga's limited respect. 

This made Rogue giggle once more,and Scott turned a powerful scowl on Helga,which was as good as useless.Jean,for her part,looked like she doubted Helga's sincerity,which was probably wise. 

"I'll monitor the situation,"Xavier said,in a tone that suggested this was a done deal:arguing would be beyond a waste of time. Although his cool and measured gaze encompassed all three of the would be warriors,they settled on Logan last,and held him the longest."Good luck." 

Logan simply gave him a curt nod,as Helga quoted a maxim he had used a time or two:"Make your own luck,and buy off your enemies." 

"You missed your calling as a politician,"Scott told her,as he waited politely for Helga to leave first. 

"Oh,even I'm not evil enough for that,"she replied haughtily,and Bob couldn't help but smile. 

He hoped these military men enjoyed their one moment of victory;they were not going to get another. 

** 

    Helga's address took them to a seedy looking place on the Lower East Side-the kind of place where you'd expect sinister things to occur.Logan took that as a positive sign for the evening. 

They parked in a dead alley between a closed Chinese restaurant and a closed-what the hell was that thing?Condemned building was his best guess:it looked like a rotten tooth caving in on itself-at the end of the block.Once again,they would walk ineffectually to their target.It was hard to let an old standard go to waste. 

The address led them right to a large pawn shop,the only open shop on the entirety of this run down, crumbling grey block, in spite of the hour,which was odd.That and the fact that the block seemed dead-figuratively if not literally. 

But Logan didn't trust the quiet.This was New York:it was a lot of things,but never really quiet. 

He sniffed the cool night air casually as the three of them stopped on the cracked sidewalk across the street from the large and strange store."He runs an evil empire from a pawn shop?"Scott asked in disbelief. 

"Bob runs his business from the back of a bar,"Helga pointed out,somewhat defensively."Besides,I doubt he runs it from here; it's probably a front." 

On another block,Logan could hear the tinny sound of strangely upbeat salsa music from a car stereo,and boisterous Spanish voices;not arguing,just gleefully intoxicated.There were other cars driving by on streets between here,but not here itself:the night smelled of overripe garbage and day old piss,car exhaust and cigarettes. 

And people.Oh yes,people. 

"What is that in the window?"Scott asked,oblivious to the noose that Logan could now sense closing around them.Let him be oblivious for a bit longer;it would make it look better. 


	12. Part 12

The pawn shop had a large display window-not covered with a metal grating to prevent a smash and grab robbery,which was the most obvious hint this was a bad guy's establishment (anyone stupid enough to steal from a major bad ass didn't live to do it again)-with the usual suspects of pawn shops in it:stereos,guitars,a new looking drum kit,but what obviously had caught Scott's attention was a large...totem?...set off to the far right of the display.A single column of some dark wood,it had three similar looking elongated,ugly,and definitely inhuman faces carved into it,their strangely long mouths frozen open in what could have been screams of horror or of rage:it was really hard to tell. 

Helga stared at this hideous artifact for a moment,then said,"I think that's a Lerkadian death plinth." 

"Is it typical for pawn shops to have those?"Scott asked,and looked directly at him. 

"What are you looking at me for?"Logan snapped,ticked off that the little twerp would associate him with a pawn shop. 

"Ah,"Helga said,an aside apropos of nothing,until Logan noticed her looking down at what he had smelled so strongly earlier -a cigarette butt still smoldering in the gutter at their feet.A weird find on a supposedly deserted street. 

Scott frowned,as Logan hissed under his breath,"We're surrounded." 

Logan almost jumped when he heard Xavier's voice say,right behind him,"It's not too late to call this off." 

He had no idea his telepathy could extend so far-but he had said he was going to be 'monitoring' the situation.Maybe he was in that Cerebro thing.'No,'Logan thought,wondering if Xavier was picking him up.'You didn't actually think I'd consider giving up,did you?' 

'No,you're not really the type.'Logan could swear he heard a twinge of humor in his 'voice'.'But I had to ask.' 

"Where are they?"Scott whispered,trying to pretend he was casually glancing around at nothing. 

"Roofs,hidden in abandoned buildings,"Logan whispered in reply,tensing for the fight.He intended to take out as many as he could.The wind shifted,and the smell of exhaust became more acute."They have a vehicle idling one street over,waiting for a cue." 

"How many people are we talking about here?" 

Logan glanced at Helga,who shrugged."Two dozen?" 

Logan nodded."At least.And not all people." 

There was dark movement on the roof of one of the condemned buildings across the street,and Scott raised a hand to the side of his visor and fired,a red burst of energy hitting the front edge of the roof and making it collapse inward,taking the people there with it. 

Logan saw a brief red flash of light out of the corner of his eye-too small and harmless to have come from Scott-and in reflex he tackled Scott and threw them both out onto the street as a couple of high powered bullets hit the wall and sidewalk,cracking concrete and shattering bricks,sending pulverized bits of mortar raining down on them as Helga pulled her own gun and fired back at the sniper.She must have hit him because he only fired back once before falling silent. 

"Thanks,"Scott said,twisting around on the street and firing another beam of red light at a group of men that suddenly appeared in a dark alleyway,not even bothering to get up.The beam was wide enough to take all the men down,but Logan knew he'd just knocked them out when he should have just fried the bastards. 

There was a strange noise,like the sounds of bullets fired through silencers,and as Logan rolled up to his feet and popped his claws,something buzzed past him at eye level while Scott let out a small grunt of pain as he got to his feet and fired another shot at another group of would be assailants. 

But there were too many of them,and most of the humans were already out of the fighting,leaving the demons,who must have been the most dangerous ones. 

Logan kicked one warty looking guy in the stomach,sending him flying backwards,while he lashed out a claw at some guy with Angel's unfortunate and occasional facial features:yellow eyes and fangs.His claws neatly sliced through his neck,and to Logan's surprise he let out an inhuman shriek and exploded into dust before his head could hit the ground.Wow,they really did explode! 

He lashed out at a grey skinned demon,and his claws pulled away dry chunks of...rock?A demon made of rock? 

Scott made a strange noise and dropped to one knee on the street,and he hissed,"Damn it."Logan stabbed another ugly mother through the gut,and then turned towards Scott,to find he was holding up what looked like a small,hollow dart."Think it's fatal?" 

Not bullets-drug darts.Or poison darts.Shit,what if it was full of whatever Krek secreted? 

Kicking a Ressik in the face,Logan thought,'If you can still hear me,Professor,get Bob here now,or the teacher's pet is toast.' 

Helga had taken care of the stone boy,literally-Logan noticed his head rolling down the street like a medicine ball,but his bulky body remained standing and swinging until she took his legs out from under him.He hit the asphalt like a ton of bricks. 

Logan just let his bloodlust and rage take over:he slashed out blindly,hitting everything that moved,ripping flesh of a dozen different varieties,slicing through bones of various densities,splattering at least a half dozen different types of blood,most of which now colored the street like a Jackson Pollack canvas.He became nothing but this empty vessel servicing his own rage,nothing but the weapon he was made to be,and there was a liberation in the total insanity of it,in the simple,pure animal savagery of it. 

In the back of his mind,he was aware there were no more red beams stabbing out,and he knew Scott was down,possibly for good this time,leaving only Helga and him to hold off the horde.Not that there was much of a horde left:he and Helga were cleaning house,and their biggest,ugliest guys fell without giving much in the way of a struggle. 

There was one man,standing on the far sidewalk,not taking part in the fray at all.He had caught some of Logan's more intelligent mind because he set off all sorts of alarm bells. 

As a human or  demon he looked odd:his body seemed too long,his limbs seemed too long,and his hair was like a spiky wire brush that stood up from his scalp like a rooster's comb.He wore a tattered overcoat that had seen better decades,a t-shirt advertising something call the 'Buzzkill Cafe',and,tellingly,thick black sunglasses,even though it was not only night,but there were no working streetlights on this block.He should have been effectively blind. 

But he was watching.Logan knew he was watching.And waiting for his chance. 

Every now and then Logan heard shots from somewhere far beyond the crowd,took some hard body blows that hurt like hell,but it just fueled his rage,which was like an all consuming fire in his blood that made Krek's poison seem weak and impotent by comparison.Anger was a fire and it could eat you alive,burn you to cinders;you could self-destruct and be your very own funeral pyre. 

Helga went flying,double teamed by something and tossed into the brick fronted wall of one of the buildings,nearly hitting the ghoulish man.At the same time Logan kicked one of his opponents towards him,hoping to knock that bastard down and get him to move. 

The ghoul dodged the heavy body of the Ressick,but it still clipped him and knocked off his sunglasses,and Logan saw the strangest thing he had ever seen.Well,so far tonight. 

He had compound,multifaceted eyes-like a fly-that seemed to bulge out of their sockets like the holes in his skull were simply not big enough to contain them.His wide pink slash of a mouth gaped open in a sickly smile,and he looked like a snake preparing to unhinge its jaw and swallow its prey whole."I really want to try you Wolverine,I really do,"he said,and it was easy to hear him now that the crowd had thinned a great deal.Well,thinned in a 'still capable of being upright' sense."But I don't know if even you can come back from your flesh being melted off.Can you,big boy?Huh?What do you think,Claws?" 

"Bring it on,string bean,"he snarled,surprised to find he had almost forgotten how to speak.He had retreated so far back into his animal brain,it was almost difficult to climb back out. 

He lunged at him,and only after he had done so did he realize that the ghoul's hand had been in the pocket of his tattered overcoat the whole time.He had time to think 'what's he got in there' before he pulled it out and fired. 

Logan just saw something blue,almost the color of Bob's eyes,before it hit him with a sharp crack,and Logan tasted electricity in his mouth as energy screamed down his nerves and seemed to freeze his muscles,hardening them to stone. 

He crashed to the fissured macadam,his body as insensate as a statue but goddamn it was still hurting,the fire moving down his nerves like a fuse had been lit,and he saw the ghoul's ugly,diseased looking face looming over him,a leering sneer on his strange and homely mouth."Oh,ouch,that looked like it hurt,"the ghoul said,his leer widening."But I bet this hurts more." 

And the skin of his long,pale throat seemed to move. 

But not for long.A whipcord thin green tail suddenly wrapped around his throat and yanked him violently away,and judging from the heavy thud that followed,he had been introduced rather emphatically and at great speed with the wall behind him.Now that really had to hurt. 

He heard the screech of a large vehicle's brakes nearby,a van most likely,and was aware of people around him-mostly humans by the smell-but his vision was now fading away,everything around him becoming a dark blur.His arms were pinioned painfully behind his back,and he felt cold metal slapped on his wrists,most likely adamantium,and tightened until they bit into his skin.Two guys then grabbed him by the upper arms and tried to lift him,but he was much heavier than he looked,and it caught the guys kind of short judging from their painful grunts.So they dragged him to the van,probably ripping skin off his legs,but he was past caring about such things.He had bigger problems at the moment. 

He was pulled unceremoniously into the back of the van,and realized his vision was gone now as he heard the doors slam and saw no change in visible light.He hoped Helga was all right;he had no idea what had happened to her after she sent that ghoul into the wall. 

His consciousness was ebbing away,but he smelled nothing but humans back here with him,all flop sweat  and cheap after shave,cigarettes and gun oil. 

The last thing Logan heard was someone flipping opening a cell phone and punching up a number.When someone picked up,the man,who had a heavy Bronx accent,simply said,"We have him." 

He wondered what they'd say if he said he actually had them. 

** 

    Jean was so eager to get there,they almost arrived on top of the van that sped Logan away.Bob could see her tense as they saw the unmarked black van scream around the corner a block from the meeting site,and she asked,"Is that it?Do they have him in there?" 

He could tell she was actually thinking of following,or possibly seeing how far her telekinesis could extend,so he said,"Let Logan do this his way.And we have to see how Scott and Helga are doing-you know Logan is fine."Or soon will be,briefly, he thought,but knew better than to actually say that. 

She got the message.With only a hint of reluctance she turned the car down the dark and deserted side street that took them directly to Rhonik's pawn shop. 

Jean stopped the car with a gasp at the head of the street,and Bob instantly opened the passenger side door and got out,headed for the large tangle of bodies and blood in the center of the road. 

They were mostly demons,and Logan (and surely Helga as well) had killed many of them:the air seemed thick with the scent of death and blood,and it soon became impossible to walk without stepping in or on something.There were enough body parts for almost three dozen demons here-how in the hell did they ever take him down?He always thought an angry Logan was no one to fuck with,but here was his proof,spilled out in a technicolor display of gore on an abandoned street. 

Some demons-and possibly humans,farther away-groaned slightly,but they sounded nowhere near full consciousness,and probably would be out of action for a long time. 

He hoped this helped Logan,he sincerely did.Because this had been some price to pay. 

At the end of this charnel orgy was Scott,laying curled up in a fetal position in the middle of the street,lightly splattered with blood not his own,but otherwise physically unharmed.At least whatever place Logan had mentally retreated to in his rage,he had remembered to protect him. 

"Is he there?"Jean asked,as Bob kneeled down beside him,blocking her view.She was still farther up the street,being repulsed by the violence of this whole thing.But Logan had warned them he wouldn't be taken without a fight,and even if he had said he'd go along peacefully,no one would have believed him.Logan fought:that's what he did. 

He turned Scott over onto his back,and he was as limp as a rag doll;he wasn't quite dead yet,but he was probably about three or four minutes away from it.He could smell the poison in him in each shallow breath. 

It wasn't as bad as Krek's venom-obviously:he'd already be stone cold dead if it was-and he was glad,because two resurrections in one evening was too damn much.Rather than answer Jean,he grabbed Scott's head,and whispered fiercely,"Listen to me -you are groggy but fine.As soon as you hear Jean say your name,you will wake up."He then let him go,so she didn't catch him. 

"Bob?"Jean asked,sounding concerned as well as closer."Have you found him?Is he..." 

He felt her shadow fall over him,her shoes squelching in things it was probably best not to think about ,and she crouched down beside him,reaching out to her quasi-fiance and touching his cheek,wiping away a spot of reddish blood that wasn't his,not by a long shot."Scott?" 

Scott groaned and reached up to his own head as if it hurt,and Bob got up and walked away,looking for Helga. 

"You got the license plate of the truck that hit me,right?"Scott asked groggily,as Bob saw a pinpoint glow of red in a near by  alleyway,an angry reddish orange coal that could only be the end of a cigarette. 

"I didn't think you smoked Camels,"Bob said to Helga,with only the slightest frown.He knew she would be all right,he really did-not only was she a Stansin,she was the toughest broad he had ever met (and he meant that in the most complimentary way imaginable)-but he was still enormously relieved to see her. 

She was sitting against the wall just inside the mouth of the alley,a few bodies piled up behind her as if a small tour group had been suddenly seized with mass narcolepsy.A cut on her forehead dribbled jade blood down her face,but otherwise she looked fine."It's all that loser had,"she said,jabbing the cigarette back in the direction of  one of the bodies. 

He crouched down beside her,and asked,"Go okay?" 

"Logan's a fucking nightmare when he's pissed,"she said,exhaling a cloud of smoke."I like his style." 

"Samurai?" 

"And kamikaze.Fucking amazing.You really need to hire him,Bob-no one would fuck with any of your shipments ever again." 

Of that,he had little doubt."I don't think he's for hire,sadly." 

"Yeah,damn samurai code."She flicked the remains of her cigarette away,and it landed quite near a very ghoulish looking figure laying unconscious on the sidewalk,in a small pool of blood as black as ink,although it smelled more like melted rubber."And look what I caught me,old man." 

The wiry hair,awkward body,and caustic smelling blood was enough of an identifier."A Beezel demon.Lucky nobody got barfed on." 

"I caught him before he could.But it ain't just any smelly old Beezel,old man-it's Reddick." 

He thought a moment,trying to place the name,as Jean helped Scott up to his feet.He did a double take when he saw the mass cole slaw of bodies behind him."Reddick,"Bob finally said."The assassin.I thought he was freelance.Why would he hook up with the League?" 

"Why else?" 

"Money,"he said,nodding.Reddick was the absolute worst in bad news.Beezels were generally an extremely unpleasant breed of demon,but rare on this plane:they could climb walls,move with a bizarre and sudden swiftness,and vomit with great accuracy a digestive fluid that was twice as caustic as sulfuric acid.It could dissolve a living being into a puddle of undifferentiated liquid goo within a minute or two,bones and all.An excruciating-and disgusting-way to die,but the evidence generally could be mopped up and flushed down the toilet. 

If things weren't bad enough at that,Reddick upped the ante by being a complete psychopath.He loved watching people melt and dissolve,and he was very good at it.If barfing for distance and accuracy had been an Olympic sport,he'd have taken the gold medal every time. 

He was well known on both coasts,and possibly throughout the entire demon world.Reddick's only loyalty was to money and to causing pain,and he was extremely good at causing pain.If you had a target you wanted taken out in the most savage, brutally inhumane way possible,he was your demon. 

Helga jerked her head towards Scott and Jean,who were talking in whispers.Probably comforting one another;it was a very Human thing to do."They ain't going to do what needs to be done.Logan would,but he's gone.If we want to put the brakes on the League for good,the damn 'X Men' aren't going to do it.They don't have the stomach." 

"They also have too much to lose,"he reminded her."They don't fight demons-they don't know the lay of that land." 

"But we do,"she said,and he knew she was working up to something."We could shut them down tomorrow." 

"That's not why we're here." 

"It is now.Logan's gonna do his part on the government end.I say we clean house on this end."She then nudged one of Reddick's narrow shoulders with the tip of her blood spattered boot."And we can use this asshole to help us,whether he likes it or not.Come on,Bob,you can do your noble shtick-you know Rhonik and his League are a bunch of cold blooded killers,and worse.What do you say?Come on,let's do this thing." 

Bob looked at Scott and Jean,then at Reddick,and then at Helga,before glancing back at Reddick again. 

He thought long and hard before he finally decided what he was going to do. 

    20 

    Consciousness returned in the form of murmuring voices,speech sounds from a distant room.They grew louder and more coherent as things started to fill themselves in,the world coming back into focus. 

Well,in theory.Everything remained black. 

"-deal,"he heard a man saying.He had a faint Midwestern accent,a slightly nasal voice."Doesn't look like much." 

"Have you seen the scans?It's fucking impressive to me,"the other man responded.His accent was more New England, although it had more of a military than pedagogic cadence."This is an engineering marvel,this is.I'd love to be able to actually see it,you know,without the flesh and muscle in the way." 

"You probably could.Peel him like a grape and he's fine a few hours later." 

"Yeah.But I was told to wait for specific orders before proceeding to something of that magnitude."Military man sounded really disappointed about that. 

Logan knew he was strapped down to a metal table;he also knew there was something over his head.Not something as clumsy as a hood or a blindfold,but a part of the table or a machine;a diagnostic tool. 

Something in his mind told him to close his eyes,that something would soon occur that he did not want his eyes open for,so he obeyed,not really knowing why but trusting his instincts. 

"I know you're up,Wolvie,I saw your muscles tense,"Military man chided,and the nasal voice son of a bitch laughed."Would you like the continental breakfast?" 

"Does your mother come with it?"He snapped. 

"Ooh,"nasal voice said,still chuckling. 

"I've already had yours,"Logan added,knowing he'd pay for it,but not really caring.Because soon,they were all going to pay for this tenfold. 

"Hey,"nasal snapped angrily,and it was military's turn to chuckle."Leave my mother out of this you fucking freak." 

"It seems Mister Wolverine still has some spark left in him,"Military said,in such a way Logan knew something bad was going to happen."That'll never do,will it?" 

"I'll see you all dead,"he said.Not a threat but a promise that made him feel very warm inside. 

A bright light came on inside the metal hood covering his head;if his eyes had been open,it was possible it could have flashed blinded him.Even with his eyes shut,the light leaking through his eyelids seemed much too bright,allowing him to see every capillary in the thin skin."You know,the Org was good,"Military went on,as Logan heard other machines humming to life.He was all too aware now that he was naked on this table,held down by bonds of adamantium,and utterly helpless.But only for now,just for now.He had had worse in his life,and he could cope for however long it took to get free,and get them.Maybe he'd strap one of them down and subject them to this. 

"But not good enough.Brain manipulation techniques have improved greatly since they had you last,Logan.Mindfucking and negative stimuli together make a great impetus for agreement." 

It was then it hit-a pain as bright as the sun,exploding through him,traveling down his nerves and through his entire body, blossoming from the back of his neck and rapidly moving outward,making his bones feel like hollow glass,and his blood feel like acid.He screamed-he must have-but he couldn't actually hear himself over the deep thrum of the machinery. 

The pain seemed eternal,but finally it died down,a raging fire cooling down to a low smolder,and he heard Military ask, "Doesn't it,Logan?" 

"Fuck you,"he gasped,his throat feeling raw. 

"Wrong answer,"Military replied coolly,and the light flared brighter,as did the pain,this time making his whole body feel like a raw and open wound that someone was slowly but surely pouring vinegar in,rubbing it in with a steel wool pad. 

He must have screamed,he knew he must have,but in the back of his mind,all Logan could think was a litany of 'YourallgoingtodieI'llseeyoualldead',until his body could take no more,and his mind shut down,sending him back into blissful, insensate darkness. 

** 

    The tracking device that Logan had injected into his own ankle before he left (as he pointed out-quite sagely,in Bob's opinion-they never looked at the ankle closely;who would?) suggested Logan had been taken rapidly (airlifted) to somewhere in Maryland.They were actually airborne,in Xavier's snazzy jet,by the time they figured out where Logan exactly was-even Scott,who really didn't like Logan,didn't want him in the hands of those mutant torturers longer than necessary. 

Jean was as tense as hell,worried about Logan,and who could blame her?He was back in the hands of men who mutilated him for sport,and considered him property they could use and abuse at will.Bob idly wondered how they'd like it. 

Scott didn't land more than he jolted to a stop,which Bob hoped was just a sign of his own anxiousness.Either that,or he needed flying lessons.Bob was willing to give it a shot on the way back.Of course,he had only ever operated a helicopter,but he was willing to give a jet a try. 

Scott put the jet down-with some difficulty-in the back forty of a large pasture,just a couple of city blocks from what appeared to be not a military compound but simply a cinderblock government office building,only with a sentry's post out front.It looked harmless,but Bob knew you could never completely trust your eyes. 

He convinced Scott,Jean,and Helga to let him go first,and wait for him to give them the 'all clear'.After all,it didn't matter if they caught him on the security tape:he wasn't a mutant,and seriously,he wanted these people to mess with him,he really did.They could finally pick on someone their own size. 

He walked casually towards the sentry's little booth,well lit,the ambient glow barely showing the twelve foot steel security gate beyond them,or the tiny pinpoint lights of the security cameras,and other,probably lethal,security precautions.Not that it mattered;soon their own men would neutralize them. 

"Halt,"a voice crackled through the booth's speaker,and a spotlight came on,attempting to blind him.But mind over matter and all,Bob simply shrank his own pupils to pinpricks,and most of the light didn't get through."Identify yourself." 

Bob held out his hand,and extended his middle finger."This is my pass-it gives me complete security clearance.I am one of your highest superiors,and you will treat me that way."Faintly,he heard someone laughing far away,and figured it was Helga. 

The soldiers-there were two of them,both with drastic buzz cuts that seemed to accentuate the harsh planes of their stern faces -looked at him with blank eyes,as glossy as the ones taxidermists shoved in stuffed moose heads."Sorry sir,"one snapped, as they both saluted crisply,and the bigger of the two quickly snapped off the spotlight. 

"The cameras will malfunction,and you will shut down all the security right now,"Bob said,as he walked up to the booth.The two men hurried up and did just what they were told,as Bob waved the others-hiding farther away-to come forward."You will remember me and only me.Now open the gate." 

"Yes sir,"the smaller one responded,and the gates began to slide apart with a rather eerie absence of noise as Jean,Scott,and Helga joined him. 

Scott glanced warily at the men,who didn't see him even though he was standing right in front of them.He waved a hand experimentally in front of their faces,but of course there was no response at all. 

"I am the only person they can see and hear right now,"Bob told him. 

"That's just creepy,"he replied,dropping his hand. 

Helga reached in through the small window in the bulletproof plexiglass that made up the top half of the booth,and pulled a sidearm right out of the larger man's hip holster.He,of course,never noticed. 

Helga checked out the sleek black handgun in the dim light of the strangely golden full moon (harvest moon,he vaguely recalled),which hung overhead like the bloated,cataract filmed eye of an indifferent god,and Helga whistled low."This is full automatic,"she said,popping the clip and looking inside."Armor piercing,fragmenting bullets.Shit,that's not standard issue."She slammed the clip back in the butt of the gun with the heel of her palm,and immediately took the safety off so the gun was ready to go,all in a series of smooth motions that betrayed her expertise with such things. 

That was his girl. 

"Nothing about this place is standard,"Bob pointed out,and then asked the soldiers in their little booth,"A mutant was brought in tonight,named Logan.Where is he?" 

"I don't know,"the smaller one-the one really in charge here-replied. 

"Guess." 

"Reconditioning unit,third level." 

"Reconditioning unit?"Jean repeated in disgust and horror.It was a sort of ironic name for a place where they brainwashed you and tortured you into submission. 

"Who's the head honcho around here?" 

"Captain Michael Hedwin." 

"Is he here?" 

"Yes." 

"Where?Guess if you don't know." 

"His office-level one." 

"Thank you,boys.Good night."Both soldiers just folded up,eyes rolling up into the backs of their heads as they collapsed on top of each other inside the cramped booth,and Scott looked after them,as if checking to make sure they weren't faking or dead. 

"How do you do that?"Scott asked,not for the first time. 

"Mind over matter,"Bob told him,knowing he probably wouldn't understand.But in some people-some demons-that wasn't a philosophy:it was a genuine power. 

Bob led the way inside the gates,where the fortress like defenses became more apparent:what seemed like a parking lot from outside the gates was in fact a sort of concrete update of a moat,with cameras (now deactivated) and what could very well be weapon or sensor ports (also disabled either way) studding the reinforced concrete facade every twenty inches or so around the entire structure. 

Scott and Jean remained tense and on the alert,but Helga just let him lead,without a care in the world.Even if they had demons on the premises,he doubted they'd be immune to him,and,if so,they'd be taken care of easily enough. 

Two thick,bullet headed soldiers,armed with semi-automatic machine guns,came walking towards them on standard foot patrol, and he sensed Jean and Scott both tensing behind him as they stopped their idle chatter about last night's Wizards game and saw them.But before they could fully react,Bob had caught them-soldiers were so easy to get,since they had already been conditioned to take orders."Ignore us,"Bob instructed them."And the gate is closed." 

The two men looked right through them,and one casually lit up a smoke as the other went on talking about the basketball game. Jean and Scott remained ready for action,and as they walked by,close enough to reach out and touch them,Bob told the nearest one,"Give me your key card." 

The man did so,not even looking at him,and continuing to talk about the game to the the smoking man,handing it to Bob as they walked past. 

"Are you sure you're not evil?"Scott asked,constantly glancing back at the retreating soldiers. 

"Oh,I have my moments,"Bob admitted wryly,as Helga's tail flicked playfully against the back of his leg.She liked a bit of evil now and again.Well,who didn't? 

They came to a heavy security door-why did Bob get the feeling it was sheathed in adamantium?-with no door knob or obvious handle,just a reader card slot,like he had expected.He ran the soldier's card through the slot,and after a moment the pin light above it flashed from red to green,and the door started to slide open with a pneumatic gasp."No fighting unless absolutely necessary,"Bob informed them."Otherwise,just let me take care of this." 

Helga made a noise of disappointment,while Scott said quietly,"Somehow I don't think Logan's going to go along with that." 

"You're assuming Logan will be in any shape to fight,"Helga said,making Bob wince.He really wished she hadn't said that. 

No one said anything,but he could feel the sudden gloom like a weight on his back,and decided it was best not to make any further comment on it at all. 

The interior of the building was just what he expected:cold adamantium walls,featureless save for the occasional security panel or camera and sensor port in the walls,and the strip of florescent lights in the high metal ceiling.This place felt as cold as the inside of a bank vault and as sterile as a lab,and all adamantium doors appeared sealed tight.There was absolutely no noise at all,save for he shushing of the air circulators,and then,when a door opened,they heard footsteps echoing from very far away.It was like being in the most high tech crypt imaginable. 

"Aren't we headed for the big cheese's office?"Helga asked,as Bob headed for what appeared to be an elevator. 

"We get Logan first."he said,and even she didn't object. 

When the doors slid apart,there was a soldier leaning back casually against the back wall of the lift,who reacted in shock upon seeing all these un-uniformed strangers."We're not here,"Bob said,and all the shock on the man's face melted away into confusion as he shook his head and left the elevator;they had to move aside so he didn't walk into them. 

As soon as they were inside,Scott said,"I bet you sneak into a lot of places." 

"Only when I have to,"he admitted,glancing around the seemingly featureless metal box.Voice activated lift?"Level three,"Bob said,in his best authoritarian,American voice. 


	13. Part 13

After a millisecond,the doors slid shut,and the elevator began to descend so smoothly it hardly felt like they were moving at all. 

"Maybe I should see if I can reach Logan,"Jean suggested."I've read his mind-briefly.Maybe I can find it-" 

"Jean,no,"Bob said,not wanting to make it an order,but he knew instantly he should have. 

Jean screamed horribly,grabbing her head as she felt to her knees,shaking so much he wondered if she was having convulsions. 

Scott dropped to his knees and grabbed her,saying frantically,"Jean?Jean,what is it?" 

She buried her head in his neck,still shuddering,hands clenched into fists."The pain,oh god,"she sobbed. 

"Distance yourself from it,"Bob said,wanting to touch her but not daring (then she'd really feel pain)."Step back,Jean-it's not your pain." 

She did with his help,her shuddering sobs fading to gasps,and when she was able to talk,her pain sounded more abstract."He wasn't there-he was in agony,but he wasn't there." 

"What do you mean?"Scott asked,but Bob thought he knew,and grimaced as the lift stopped and the doors slid open on a seemingly deserted corridor exactly like the one they just left. 

"She means they've tortured him and either reverted to an animalistic state,or they've triggered his latent personality,"Bob explained,stepping between the doors to keep them from closing. 

"Latent personality?"Scott asked. 

He didn't know?Well,why would Logan mention it?"He was brainwashed by these people,"he said,hoping Logan would forgive him for this."They turned him into a killing machine for them.But they haven't had him long enough to do a full trigger,so I should be able to get him back without a problem." 

"He had to be made into a killing machine?"Scott asked incredulously,but he knew he was mostly joking.Well,half joking. 

"It would be worse for these people if you didn't turn him back,"Helga pointed out. 

It would,in theory.But he had a feeling an angry Logan might be far worse than a cold blooded Wolverine. 

** 

    He came to feeling like he had been burned alive from the inside out,and his mind was an empty vessel containing nothing but fragments of pain. 

And rage.Yes,lots of rage. 

Distantly,he heard a man say,as if from down a long metal tunnel,"Don't get near him:in this state,he'll kill anything that moves." 

Yes,he was thinking he'd kill the owner of that voice as soon as he found him. 

His head hurt-it was like someone had crammed a whole bunch of live wires in there,and the more he tried to think,the more it hurt,so he just gave up. 

It was dark where he was,and cold,but his eyes had been closed,which he had previously hurt too much to realize.But the room he was in-silver steel all around,like he was in a big metal box-felt like a cage,which instantly enraged him. 

But when he tried to get up,chains yanked him down. 

There were shackles on his wrists and ankles,and he couldn't stand more than crouch so he didn't yank his shoulders out of their sockets.He was probably cold because all he was wearing were a pair of odd smelling,torn jeans:the multicolored spots dappling parts of the legs made him think of paint,but they smelled like several kinds of odd blood. 

But he smelled people too. 

The owner of the voice and his friend were standing in the open doorway,gawking at him like the prize exhibit in a freak show.He snarled at them and tried to lunge forward,but the chains held him fast. 

"Calm down,Wolverine,we're not your enemy,"one of then men-the one who talked earlier-drawled. 

"Yes you are,"he growled,barely aware he could talk:his voice sounded like gravel crunching under someone's boots. 

The other man stepped back into the hall,and he could smell his fear,sharp and bright,and it made him almost hungry.Not for food,not exactly.He just wanted to tear his throat out,smell his adrenaline infused blood spilling out of his body and pooling on the sterile metal floor. 

Bloodlust-that's what it was.He just wanted to hurt something. 

A third man appeared behind the other two.The two in the doorway were obviously soldiers;they didn't wear fatigues,but they didn't have to.Their body language said it,their awful haircuts,the reek of cordite and gun oil said it-but the man who just appeared was no soldier.In fact,his smell was odd-human,but with something strange underneath.He didn't know what,but he knew he didn't like it. 

"Welcome back,Wolverine,"the pasty faced man said,in a condescending tone.His hair was a thinning,washed out ginger,and there was something glassy and off about his grey eyes...but again,he didn't know what,and it was starting to drive him crazy. 

"Fuck you,"he snarled,yanking ineffectually at the chains.As much as he wanted to kill the soldiers,something told him he should go for the strange smelling desk jockey first. 

The man (?) chuckled,and once again it sounded patronizing."Yes,that's the psychopath we all know and-"The man suddenly looked around,what little color there was in his face draining away,and Wolverine could suddenly smell fear on him,radiating off him in waves."Code red,"the man said to the soldiers."Silent call-secure this level." 

"What?"The larger of the soldiers-the fearless one-said,wondering what the hell was going on. 

"He's scared shitless,"Wolverine growled. 

The soldiers looked at the man in startled curiosity,but he ignored them all."Shoot on sight anyone you don't recognize,"he went on."Don't ask for i.d.,we'll sort it out later.Now go!" 

"Yes sir,"they replied mindlessly,and went off,leaving the ginger haired man leaning against the doorway,almost sick with fear. 

"Something ain't right,"Wolverine hissed,both an accusation and a sudden realization. 

"Not all your friends are mutants,are they?"The man snapped back,and then got a look on his face like he'd made a grave tactical error. 

He had no idea what he was talking about,but he felt he should.Mutant...oh yes,he had claws,didn't he?The better to rip someone's guts out with.He sprung his claws,the metal ripping through the thin skin of his hands a familiar pain,and while the desk jockey wasn't all that surprised,it didn't do his already tense nature any good at all. 

"The chains are adamantium,you can't cut through them,"he said,trying to pretend he still wasn't as freaked out as a cat loose in the dog pound. 

"Then why don't you let me out of them?I'll kill whatever it is that has your panties in a bunch." 

The man scowled at him."You couldn't get close enough to a Drai'shajan to do anything." 

That name...he didn't recognize the language,but he would almost  swear the name was familiar somehow.He'd heard it somewhere...a long time ago..."Then why do you think you can run from it?"He asked. 

That made the desk jockey do the slightest of double takes,right before there was a distant sound of a gunshot-but just the one. Then it was eerily silent,which Wolverine took as not such a good sign.Either a sniped shot had taken someone out,or someone had gotten the gunman after a single shot. 

Desk jockey obviously thought the same thing.He pulled what looked like a Walther type semi-automatic pistol out from beneath his conventional grey sports coat,and pulled off the safety as he stepped into the room."This could have worked, Wolverine.We could have used you to get Xavier,but damn it,you had to fuck it up.It'll be a shame to waste you,but hey,que sera sera." 

"You don't actually think you can kill me with that,do you?"He asked disdainfully,then said,as it had finally occurred to him, "You're not human,are you?"He didn't know what he was,but he knew human didn't cover it.And was the name Xavier kind of familiar too? 

The guy didn't answer,he simply leveled the gun at his face,aiming carefully for his eye."I don't think even you can recover from a bullet in the brain,Wolverine." 

He hoped he'd get just a little closer.Maybe he couldn't cut through the chains,but he could still kill him if he just got a bit closer... 

"Oh no,parasite,I don't think that's happening,"an Australian man said casually,appearing in the open doorway.  
The man-parasite?-froze,his eyes widening in horror,and his hand tensed on the gun,but he didn't pull the trigger. Wolverine got the sense he could not pull the trigger,even though he wanted to. 

The Aussie,whose eyes were so bright they could have been neon,looked at him over the paralyzed gunman's shoulder,and said,"Hi Logan.You remember me,don't you."The final statement should have been a question,but wasn't. 

And suddenly he did remember-memories washed over him like a flood,disorienting him and making his head hurt. 

And now he knew he really was going to kill this guy. 

    21 

    "Throw that away,"Bob told the parasite inside the shell of the man,referring to the gun,and he did as he was told,trying to fight but unable to.He probably sensed him,but not in time,therefore it had to be the most useless talent imaginable."Now,let him out of those chains like a good boy." 

The man did as he was told,and Logan was back,but so obviously infuriated he wondered if letting him out of the chains was a good idea.Veins throbbed and stood out like cords on his temples and neck and arms,and since he was shirtless Bob could see muscles in his chest clench,like he was preparing to punch this guy so hard his head would cave in like an overripe pumpkin. 

Logan could too.It wasn't that he was strong,although he was (man,was he ripped!)-it was that he had a whole bunch of metal under his skin that doubled his impact,or,if Logan didn't bother to hold back (and he always did,just a bit-he didn't know if he was consciously aware of it or not),probably quadrupled it.He could smash someone into pulp,break every single bone in their body with nothing but well placed punches,turn their organs into fine pulp.It was no wonder he was considered a weapon,even discounting the claws. 

"Logan,"he said in his steadiest voice,not wanting to push him,but ready to do so if he needed to.He had every right to be infuriated,though,and he didn't blame him at all."He needs to be conscious and alive to answer questions." 

Logan was literally panting through his flared nostrils,a bull seeing red,and while in a technical sense he was back, Logan had never really been that different from 'Wolverine'-that was him with a submerged conscience.And it seemed to be submerging all by itself right now. 

He was glad he had sent Scott,Jean,and Helga off to see if there were other mutants on the floor,even though he suspected there weren't (there were only two mutants they wanted here),because frankly they could only make this volatile situation worse.The group dynamic,as far as he could tell,was held together by Xavier alone,and Logan was so obviously the odd man out it was almost painful.But Xavier rather liked Logan,and he could see why,even if that same thing eluded Scott. 

Logan stared at him,but said nothing.He didn't have to;anger had turned his green eyes into jade embers harder than rock.He had to know Bob could push him,but here was that Logan suicidal fearlessness again;he seemed to be almost daring him to do it.He was so lost in his own rage he was beyond reason. 

As soon as the man was finished unchaining him,Logan moved so fast he was a blur (Angel was right-vampire fast).He grabbed the man from behind by the throat (he had been turning away),and suddenly the claws of his other hand burst through the man's side in a spray of blood,and the man screamed-or at least he tried.But Logan's left hand was clamped so tight around his throat the best he could do was squeak. 

"Logan!"Bob reached out and felt his mind,ready to clamp down. 

"It's just a flesh wound,I didn't hit anything major,"he snarled,still not retracting his claws.He then growled in the man's ear,"I'm going to kill you an inch at a time,motherfucker.I'm gonna see how many holes I can put in you before you die.Wanna know what it's like to be cut open,huh?" 

"If you strangle him,you'll never get the chance,"Bob pointed out.The man was going from red to purple,Logan's grip on his throat so tight he was pretty sure he could hear the small bones of his neck creaking from here. 

Logan glanced at the man with great loathing (if looks could kill,the questioning would have been over),and noticing finally he was an unhealthy eggplant shade,threw him on the floor,yanking his claws out of him as he did so.The man landed hard on all fours before collapsing on his uninjured side,coughing and gasping for air while curling into a fetal position,wrapping his arms around the bloody puncture wounds in his side.He looked truly miserable,and was probably wishing he had never been involved in this. 

Logan kicked him angrily in his injured side,getting a noise of pain from him somewhere amongst all the gasping.Logan was barefoot,so it should have hurt him more,but all that metal again. 

"I don't think he wanted you,Logan,for the record,"Bob said."The others did.He just saw you as a tool to get Xavier for him." 

"Why does he want Xavier?"Scott asked. 

Bob had heard them coming around the corner,Scott and Jean in the lead,Helga taking point,but he doubted they noticed Helga  guarding their backs.He also knew they didn't find any other prisoners on this level. 

"He's a psychic parasite.Or,more properly,he has a psychic parasite in him,pulling the strings." 

"Logan,are you-"Jean began,but stopped when she looked inside the doorway.The unadulterated rage on his face and the man laying bleeding on the floor momentarily startled and scared her.Logan was dangerous,and sometimes it caught her off guard. 

"What I want to know is are you the parasite who originally wanted to feast on Xavier,or are you just a relative?"Bob asked the man on the floor.In truth,Logan could do all the damage to his body he wanted,as it had a tendency to die around the parasite, and yet remained viable for the parasite in spite of it.It was a Hanthos demon,and they were pretty hard to kill. 

"I don't have to answer any of your questions,"he rasped hoarsely,as Logan paced the floor restlessly behind him,like an enraged tiger just waiting for the cage door to swing open,predatory eyes locked on the man,who remained curled up and small on the floor.Bob wasn't sure if the Hanthos was more afraid of him or Logan right now. 

"Yes,actually you do,"Bob replied coldly. 

"Talk or scream-your choice,"Logan snarled. 

That seemed to make up his mind for him."Fucking mutant freaks-I could have been virtually omnipotent with Xavier in my control." 

"Answer the question,"Bob repeated.He wasn't pushing him,but he wasn't lying,so he didn't need to yet.But,as always,ready to do so. 

"Did you forget your biology,Drai'shajan?"The demon asked facetiously,spitting dark blood on the silver floor. 

"What did he call you?"Jean asked curiously,her fear of Logan momentarily forgotten.Having experienced a moment of the pain he was put through,a small part of her that she probably wouldn't acknowledge wanted him to kill the man. 

"I thought you said you were a Belial,"Scott chimed in,standing-as always-right beside Jean. 

He ignored them as that wasn't relevant right now,although Logan was giving him the queerest look,and he wasn't sure what for."Hanthos demons pack,they come in clusters.So you're not the one Magneto thought he killed,you're a cluster mate." 

"You can't imagine what a prize he would have been,"the Hanthos said,sounding almost remorseful."The Hanthos controlling him would have had nearly endless power." 

"So feeding wasn't enough?Wow,delusions of grandeur in a parasite,"Bob spat back,pretty sure he should just let Logan kill the thing.The host body was dead anyways. 

"You didn't let the soldier boys in on your plan to feast on him,did you?"Logan said angrily,continuing to pace,his currently clawless hands clenched into impressively tight fists at his side."They probably thought they were just gonna get a telepathic soldier,but they were actually gonna get you in him." 

"They'd have had their soldier,"the Hanthos replied.He was more afraid of Logan,definitely;Bob could kill him quicker,but the Hanthos really didn't like physical pain being inflicted on the host body,and Logan had hurt him a lot.He also knew- 

Shit."What do you know about Logan?"Bob instantly asked. 

Logan froze in place,turning back to gaze between him and the Hanthos alike,curious,startled,enraged,and scared all at once. 

The Hanthos looked at him,fear evident in his glassy grey eyes."I don't know what-" 

"Yes you do,"Bob insisted,and pushed him.It wasn't hard. 

"He was the Organization's impossible man,"the Hanthos said,sounding slightly distant."A lot of their mutants died or went nuts,but they could do anything to Logan and it wouldn't matter.He always came back." 

"What do you mean do anything?"Scott asked,sounding vaguely horrified,but the Hanthos couldn't hear him. 

It went on."His mutant power didn't seem very important,but he could do anything.If you needed an army fast but couldn't get one,you just have to drop the Wolverine in,because he could do the impossible." 

"Shut up,"Logan growled.He was frightened of what else he might hear,and didn't want to hear anymore. 

And this was where Bob was torn.He had more to say,but should he let him say it if Logan didn't want to hear it? 

The Hanthos went on in Bob's moment of indecision,and Bob decided to just let him go:Logan might not want to hear it,but maybe it was best that he did."The big one was a secret base in Siberia.It was guarded by an army,mutants and maybe demons among them.Because of surveillance nobody could get within fifty miles of the place,and those dropped in usually died of exposure before the army guarding the place got a chance to kill them.The Organization sent Wolverine out-" 

"I said shut up,"Logan snapped,forgetting in his anger that the Hanthos couldn't hear him right now. 

"Three days later they picked up a signal from the base,and when a retrieval squad was sent in,they found Wolverine all alone. If you didn't count the dead.An entire army,maybe two hundred people maximum,counting those bits of soldiers they found along the way,leading up to the base-" 

"I said shut up!"Logan roared,in anguish as much as rage,popping the claws of his right hand and slamming them down into the floor,millimeters from the man's face.Because the floor was adamantium,sparks jumped up on contact,and Bob let the Hanthos go to face Logan.He deserved the fear,the arrogant little prick. 

The Hanthos's eyes went impossibly wide,nearly bulging out of their sockets,as Logan pressed the fist of his left hand against the opposite side of the man's head.If Logan sprung those claws,goodnight nurse-even the Hanthos wouldn't survive that. 

"I-I'm just-"the Hanthos sputtered,so terrified it didn't even know what to say. 

"What did you fucks do to me?!"He roared,crouching over the terrified man,his eyes burning like the sun."Who am I?!" 

"He doesn't know,"Bob told him sadly.When Logan glanced up at him,still furious,Bob explained,"The Organization is not this place.They were trying to steal you from it." 

Logan glanced down at the Hanthos,who almost shook his head but was too frightened to."I-I don't know what the Organization is-some sort of covert black ops thing-but they had a lot more success with their mutants than we ever did." 

"Their mutants?"Logan said,suddenly ice cold.Oh no."Their mutants?"Logan retracted the claws of his right hand and grabbed the Hanthos by the shirt collar,violently yanking him up to his feet.He kept his left fist planted firmly against the side of his head,though."Are you their demon,huh?Shall I break you open and see?" 

"Logan,don't,"Jean said plaintively,and for the first time Bob noticed she was crying. 

Logan looked at her,startled,and for the first time his rage seemed to stumble.He seemed to be aware for the first time there were more people than just Bob watching him. 

"I think Captain Hedwin's told us all he can,"Bob told Logan quietly,and Helga grunted humorously.Yes,the bigwig in charge was a Hanthos demon with delusions of grandeur.It seemed appropriate somehow. 

"He's-"Scott began,surprised,but then stopped.He wanted to be anywhere but here right now,and Bob couldn't blame him. 

"We can't leave him alive,"Logan snarled,only addressing Bob this time. 

"I won't go after you again,"the Hanthos stammered,on the verge of tears himself.Logan's fist against his head was really unnerving him.He was probably imagining his death by skewering."It's over,I swear." 

"Like I buy that,"Logan spat in his face."Where is the Organization,huh?Tell me." 

"It's everywhere and nowhere,"he replied,and to Bob's surprise he wasn't lying."Every time we find out where they are, they've already moved on.They're one step ahead of everyone." 

Logan glanced at him,past the frightened Hanthos,and Bob nodded in confirmation.The Hanthos had no more than that on this 'Organization'. 

"Last known location?I don't care that they were gone,"Logan said,shaking him like a rag doll. 

"Grand Cache,"he said,sounding desperate and frightened. 

Logan's scowl deepened-that's where Angel went to get him,wasn't it?That,and where Naomi got drained of her memory. Logan glanced at him,and Bob was forced to shrug."That is the truth as he knows it." 

"Shit,"Logan cursed,tossing the man aside like a used tissue.He hit the wall hard and sank to the floor,still conscious but paralyzed with fear.Logan then stalked towards them,rage hardening his features but his eyes were cast down-he refused to look at  anyone.He was ashamed at what he had heard,mortified,and Bob was now sorry he let him hear it.But he wasn't going to take the memory from him. 

Logan wheeled back,and glared at the man like he was an insect."If I ever see you or your 'boys' ever again,this will be the last thing you ever hear."He popped the claws of his left hand,just long enough for the Hathos to get the point. 

He got the point:he was pressed against the wall as if trying to somehow merge with it.Unable to speak,he simply nodded vehemently,clearly hoping Logan would leave right now. 

Logan started to turn away,but then shook his head in disgust."His kind won't leave it.We have to-" 

"Let the chips fall where they may,"Bob said,catching his eyes.He then whispered so quietly that no one could hear-except Logan,with his ultra keen hearing,"This is demon business.We'll take care of it." 

Logan held his gaze for a long moment,as if trying to ascertain his veracity,then glanced at Helga,waiting behind him with her tail flicking impatiently.He didn't need to look to know Helga gave him her killer smile-literally.It was the teeth baring,"I could fuck you or kill you now and I'd be cool with either" sort of leer that she meant very much,which made it all the more chilling.  
It convinced Logan,who looked back at him and gave him a curt nod of agreement. 

"What happened to the rest of your clothes?"Scott asked.He was trying to play it cool,of course,but he still seemed jumpy and unnerved. 

Logan shrugged."Damned if I know." 

"He's fun to look at naked,"Helga called out.While they were headed down the hall,she remained in the doorway,that lovely little automatic pistol with the armor piercing,fragmenting bullets in her hand. 

While Logan actually managed a snorted sort of laugh,Bob focused his mind on Scott and Jean,and said quietly,"Helga is with us.You will know no different,and hear nothing in this hallway but the sounds of voices." 

Logan,serious again,glanced over his shoulder at him.Bob had not included Logan in the 'push',because he didn't see the point.He figured it would make Logan's night to know what really happened.He saw the understanding in Logan's eyes,and knew that was fine with him. 

Jean,who was probably still crying quietly,reached out and put a supportive hand on Logan's back,which seemed to surprise him even more.From the way the muscles in his back seemed to ripple with tension,he really didn't want to be touched right now,but he didn't shrug her hand away. 

Bob didn't even have to look back to know Helga was gone. 

** 

    Hanthos Hedwin (and what an ironic surname that was!Did he make that up?) was still cowering against the wall,clutching his bloody side where Logan had perforated him,given him a triad of new air holes that really wouldn't do him any good at all. 

"What do you want,Stansin?"He spat,like her species was somehow bad.Funny coming from a parasitic dirtbag like him. 

"A bubble bath,a pepperoni pizza with extra cheese,a pint of Bailey's ice cream and a bit of mattress wrestling with the old man.Or Logan.Hell,both if I could talk them into it.Thanks for asking." 

"What are you-"Hedwin began,and then his eyes scudded down,and he finally noticed the gun in her hand.His eyes became as large as silver dollars and bright as coffin nails,and his mouth opened and closed a couple of times before his voice came back to him."They're the X Men,right?They won't let you kill me-" 

Helga crouched down in front of him,cracking her tail like a whip and making him jump as she jammed the barrel of the gun right inside his ear."They will never know,sweetheart,and if you haven't grokked it by now,I ain't an X Man.I'm also a professional-I know how to kill your kind."She pursed her lips at him,giving him a mocking air kiss of death."This is a lot better than you deserve,you know.Oh,and just for the record,you got hosed-Logan let you capture him,dumb ass.I thought you were a leader of men,moron." 

She then pulled the trigger,rather pleased with the shocked look on his face. 

** 

    They were in the elevator,Scott and Jean unknowingly waiting with him and Logan for the return of Helga,and Bob was standing just inside the doorway,so the sensors would pick him up and the door would not close automatically.When the single gunshot echoed down the narrow metal corridor,there was no reaction from Scott and Jean,who didn't hear it.  
Logan heard it,but he didn't even flinch. 

    22 

    Rogue told herself she was not going to look at the clock again,but it was sort of like trying not to look at some hideous car wreck-you knew it was wrong,but you just couldn't help yourself. 

She pretended hard to pay attention to whatever was on the t.v.-what the hell was it now?She had been watching a movie with  aliens in it or something,a couple of explosions,but now she heard canned laughter,and figured a sitcom was on.She had never even noticed the movie got over. 

But she had never been paying attention anyways.She kept wondering if they had saved Logan yet or not,and if they had gotten him before they could do anything to him.She figured things had been bad when Scott,Jean,Bob,and Helga had gotten back from the fight-Scott and Helga looked like they had a couple of scratches,but nothing more-but Jean looked real pale,more than usual,like she had seen something really awful.And,come to think of it,Scott looked kinda pasty too. 

Of course they wouldn't say what happened ("No time,"),and no,she couldn't come with,and there was no way she could stow away on the jet.Besides,she really didn't like flying.Luckily,the only time she had been on the jet she had absorbed Logan beforehand,and he wasn't afraid of anything,so it didn't bother her.Besides,she was also worried she had killed him (well,okay,as Jean pointed out he had done it on purpose,but still...) since he was comatose and bleeding all over and not healing,not at all.She kind of wondered if she'd taken all his healing thing,if that were even possible.Luckily,it wasn't,he just needed a few days to get back on track. 

Maybe that's why it hadn't really surprised or bothered her when he suggested they let these guys-League,whatever-capture him,so they could trace these government assholes back to their source.Logan was like the indestructible guy;even those dickheads probably didn't have what it took to kill him. 

But they could hurt him.They could hurt him a lot.They had already,hadn't they?Only after they were gone did she remember they had done some awful things to him-nobody would talk to her about it,but eventually Logan admitted he had nightmares because of the things they had done.He had said 'torture',but she wasn't dumb:it was more than just torture.Until then,she didn't think there could be anything worse than torture,but Magneto had taught her that if nothing else. 

The floor creaked loudly,and she jumped.Shit,would the house quit settling like that?Even with the idiot noise of the t.v.,it was too damn quiet in here,and she would swear there was some big,well armed ugly behind every creak,waiting behind the curtains of every window. 

She really wished they'd get back.She wanted to know Logan was safe,and-selfishly,okay-she wanted him and Bob back to watch this place,guard their backs,and kick major ass if need be.And she couldn't shake the feeling the need would be,sooner if not later. 

This really bugged her because it made her feel like a wimp:no matter what Jean and Scott thought,she could take care of herself. Didn't she prove that today?But what bugged her was how many she'd have to defend herself against,and armed with what?She wasn't Logan-a bullet would take her down. 

And the whole demon thing sort of bugged her.Mutants with unknown powers were bad enough,but now demons,who could do all sorts of really nasty things?If there was another Bob somewhere out there they were screwed,blued,and tattooed, weren't they?But she sort of doubted the world was big enough for two Bobs,which was a good thing.Sort of. 

Unconsciously grabbing Logan's dogtags,still hanging around her neck like the strange good luck charms they had become to her,she knew she was going to miss Bob when he was gone. 

She told herself it was because he didn't treat her like a kid,like Scott and Jean did (they acted like they were her parents or something-sheesh!),and that was true.He also had a cool power,which was really hard to define-she knew he was powerful,but she didn't know exactly how,except he seemed to scare an entire room full of miniature Godzillas (Ressik demons, whatever) , and if he could do that he had to be a major ass kicker.No,the biggest thing she'd miss about him was he was hot. 

Okay,hot didn't even cover it-fucking gorgeous did.Even his voice was sexy.Until she met him she though Australian accents were kind of funny.But he didn't have a 'Crocodile Hunter' kind of accent;his accent seemed more sophisticated,exotic as opposed to comical,and probably his velvety speaking voice didn't hurt.And talk about eyes,wow.She'd never seen eyes that perfectly cobalt before.And those tight leather pants (with that butt)-major thud. 

(And a little ,evil part in her mind wondered if what he said back in the Professor's office,about having the biggest...well...was true...) 

Of course,he was probably really old.He looked thirty,which was old enough,but he implied he was older,and the Professor himself said he was much older than he appeared to be.But the same thing was hinted about Logan,and that had to be bullshit -okay,maybe Bob was like fifty in demon years,but there was no way in hell Logan could be close to the Professor's age or something."Age differently" her ass.Logan was older,sure-thirties,maybe-but too old for her?Well,everybody she liked was "too old for her",according to Jean.Spoilsport.It wasn't like she didn't know the real reason that Jean tried to discourage her from liking Logan-she had the hots for him herself.It was so obvious. 


	14. Part 14

She heard another noise-not a creak but a definite thunk,and she jumped to her feet,frantically looking around.She was alone here,for now,but now she was convinced there was someone else in the mansion,someone who wasn't invited in through the front door. 

She left the t.v. on and hastily left what was often referred to as the 'lounge',and wasn't too surprised to find the Professor in the hallway.His face was placid as always,and he smiled faintly,but there seemed to be something wrong,something that made the wrinkles stand out in the corners of his pale blue eyes."Ah,Marie,I was just about to come get you,"he said with a sort of false cheerfulness."I thought perhaps I might go down to Cerebro to see how they're doing,and thought you might want to accompany me." 

"Haven't you-"she began,but stopped as she realized he did know there were people-or something-out there,and just didn't want to freak her out.He was a telepath after all.But if he wanted to retreat to 'headquarters'...did that mean there was something out there he couldn't effect? 

That was such a scary thought,she decided to play along."Sure,yeah.I've never seen it." 

"I think you'll be impressed,"he said,turning his motorized wheelchair around and leading the way down the hall towards the elevator. 

"Logan said it was a big round room,"she offered,glancing back over her shoulder.She didn't see anything-yet.But there was something there,she was now convinced of it. 

Maybe she could take care of herself,but she couldn't help but wish that Logan and the others would hurry back. 

** 

    Tony kind of wondered if this was a trap. 

With Logan out of the way and Summers most likely D.O.A.,they were expecting some resistance,but not anything they couldn't handle.Okay,the Belial,the Stansin,and Xavier were considered the biggest threats-the telekinetic seemed to have a natural aversion to violence,so could probably be overwhelmed,and the little girl (demon,mutant?No one was sure) was an unknown quantity,but who could consider a little girl a threat? 

Still,Black surrounded himself with all the living Ressiks still on the payroll,and some weird ass kind of demon that he referred to as 'Hai'satcha',a "natural deterrent to all telepaths",whatever that meant.All Tony knew was the thing smelled like kelp rotting in the sun on the Jersey shore,and it was just fucking creepy-seven feet tall at the very least,and fireplace poker thin,he was wrapped up in a long black coat that could not conceal that he appeared to be hovering,the tips of his five or six tentacles(!) barely touching the ground as it seemed to glide instead of walk.It also wore a large black hat,and wore some kind of white cloth wrapped around his big face,so he looked sort of like that guy in that old 'Invisible Man' movie.But Tony figured it wasn't that there wasn't anything there,but something so hideous that it was probably better no one saw what was underneath. 

There was no resistance as they went inside the mansion,except for some routine automated security systems and locks,which was no problem at all.Some of  the guys who were vulnerable to telepaths suddenly chickened out and ran off,but for some reason he remained untouched.Maybe because he was between Satchmo (his own nickname for the creepy crawler...er, hoverer) and Black,who said he was resistant to human telepathy.News to him.Black wasn't human? 

There was noise in the large front room beyond the foyer,but it was just the t.v.,and no one was currently watching it.  
It was a really big place,and with the twenty of them remaining it was going to take some time to search.He sort of wished freakly old Reddick was here,but he hadn't returned from the Logan capture,yet his body or pieces of it hadn't been found among the remains.Although,as Black pointed out,Beezel demons had a tendency to dissolve upon death,their own acidic secretions eating them alive.Couldn't happen to a nicer guy.But how did that homicidal fuck ever get himself sliced and diced by Logan?Maybe,when the psychos came head to head,the bigger psycho won.Survival of the vicious. 

It was a cliche,but it really was too fucking quiet.He really didn't like it.Where the fuck were they?He expected the Stansin and the Belial to do something by now,if not the telekinetic. 

"They're below us,"Satchmo hissed.If a tire with a slow leak could talk,it would sound just like Satchmo. 

"The plans for the house included no basement,"one of the Ressiks,the one in the strangely colored Versace suit said (it was like a violent lilac,wedded with aluminum foil-and why the demon thought it went with his scaly green skin he had no idea. Maybe Ressiks were color blind). 

"Oh,like he was going to tell the bad guys where to find him,"Tony said in reply. 

"There has to be a way down,"Black said calmly."Find it."He then added,"Or we blast our way down." 

Now that was more like it. 

They had fanned out,and Tony didn't like tailing Satchmo (he swore he left a slime trail,like a slug),but he didn't mind acting as the front guard for the boss.They were in a large wood paneled hall that seemed to lead to an endless amount of doors and atria (it was the biggest fucking school or house he had ever seen),and suddenly they all felt a rumble-distant,but still strange. 

Satchmo glanced up at the high,vaulted ceiling,as Black took his radio out of his pocket and said into it,"Murok,what the hell was that?" 

The Ressik in charge of the rear guard covering the mansion said,"Some weird kinda plane,flyin' really low,just passed overhead.It's gone now." 

Satchmo turned his hidden,oddly shaped head towards Black,his head almost doing a full one eighty that would have snapped the neck of anything with a spine.How fucking creepy was that?"What kind of plane?"It hissed. 

"What kind of plane?"Black repeated into the radio. 

"We got us an elevator,"a Ressik called Kulek shouted from the end of the hall."It's locked down,but we can get through the shaft." 

"Do it,"Black agreed,waiting for Murok to respond.He then gestured with his head for Tony and Satchmo to go join them in cutting a hole into the shaft.Tony nodded,and let Satchmo lead,trying to stay as far away from him as possible without seeming obvious about it. 

"Uh,not sure sir,"Murok finally responded."Fret thinks it was a Stealth bomber,but there aren't any military bases around here, are there?" 

And that's when Tony had a real bad feeling.Logan couldn't fly a plane,right? 

They had reached the open elevator doors,where two really big Ressiks were just finishing cutting a hole in the floor,when he heard a crackle over Black's radio,echoing down the hall."Sir,I think we have a problem.I can't contact Lerik." 

He was another one of those guys on the outside team."He could simply have turned his radio off,"Black replied coolly.It was like he was refusing to let anything bother him,no matter what.He just wanted Xavier,although he never exactly explained why. 

"But I'm where he should be,and I don't see him anywhere,"the Ressik said,and even as he was helping put the section of elevator flooring aside,he heard a faint noise over the crackling radio that chilled his blood.It was a noise that was hard to describe,but eerie:it sounded like someone drawing a sword out of a metal sheath really fast,too fast to be human. 

And the next noise was something punching wetly through flesh,a noise so loud Black dropped his radio,and it shattered into a dozen pieces on the polished hardwood floor. 

"Plan b-we are under attack,"Black shouted,rushing to the elevator as the Ressiks moved past him,forming an attack pattern on either end of the hall. 

Satchmo hissed then;it sounded like an angry cat reacting on a slow motion tape."Drai'shajan,"it spat,and Tony figured it was the demon equivalent of motherfucker. 

"Shit,"Black said,and hastily started looking for a way down through the shaft,something to hold onto.What the fuck was he so scared of? 

And that's when Tony heard singing. 

"Here we're going back again,"a man sang,surprisingly loud and in tune."Act surprised when I come in.It's only me,it's only stupid me."It was the pretty boy,the Belial,who now appeared at the mouth of the hall,a silver plated semi-auto Glock in each hand."You could never figure out,what was all the fuss about,I know it's me,it's only stupid me-" 

Nine Ressiks fixed their guns on him as Black scrambled down the shaft,and Satchmo quickly drifted down afterwards.Tony was picking up on the tension,but he didn't get it at all.It was only a fucking Belial,who was about to be cut down in a hail of bullets.Tony peered around the side of the elevator and aimed his own weapon at the pretty boy demon...and found he couldn't move.He was frozen like a statue,his body refusing to listen to any of his commands at all.Telepathy?Xavier? 

The Belial gave the glowering Ressiks a shit eating grin,like nine automatic weapons weren't pointed directly at him."Mexican standoff,'ey?"He said,his voice betraying a thick Australian accent."You can't kill me with those,and I can't kill you with these." 

Ressiks were hard to kill-unless you had copper (for some reason,that killed them),you could only decapitate them,break their neck,or maybe sever their spine (had to hit the right spot),otherwise they were as right as rain. 

But what did he mean they couldn't kill him?He was only a Belial,and as demons went they were virtually powerless.The older they got,the more powerful they got,but by then they went nuts. 

Except... 

Black had mentioned there were rumors of a Belial in Australia who had gotten old and powerful,but hadn't gone nuts.In fact, he had become- 

Australian.Ah shit. 

"But you know what,mates?"The Belial-who probably wasn't quite anymore-went on cheerfully."I may not be that stupid after all." 

He then opened fire with both guns. 

The Ressiks instantly responded,but not for long-they fell like scarecrows,balloons suddenly burst,and he didn't know why until he realized the blur of bullets coming from his guns looked faintly gold. 

Copper.The bullets were in copper jackets. 

A couple of bullets hit the Belial before all the Ressiks went down,but they just made him stagger back a step or two;he didn't go down.He was right about bullets not killing him,or he was wearing a flak jacket under his purple shirt. 

After all the Ressiks were down-for good,no matter where he hit them,because the copper hit their bloodstream like arsenic-he started walking towards the elevator...towards him.Now would have been a great time to move,only again he could not;he was frozen like an insect pinned to a board,and he knew suddenly it was not Xavier's fault but the pretty boy's fault.Shit shit shit. 

He had never even looked at him,but he had 'caught' him  anyways. 

The Belial did finally look at him,his bright blue eyes as luminous as miniature suns,and Tony really knew he was reamed when the demon smiled at him.There were dark patches on his shirt,maybe where some bullets got through,and there was a small spattering of royal blue liquid on his face,like someone had flung a paintbrush at him-was that his blood?"Ahoy matey.So tell me about you and your friends here.What's the frequency,Kenneth?" 

Tony couldn't believe he could be this dead and still talking,even if it was completely against his will. 

    23 

    Without even looking directly into his mind,he knew this human was a hard case. 

He looked very much like your stereotypical mob enforcer-verging on middle age,a small beer gut of hard fat,a nose broken so much it had flattened against his face,with a tiny extra bump of cartilage rising at the bridge of his nose,his eyes hard and small in a lined and fleshy face-and he was holding an impressively large and deadly machine pistol in his pudgy hands.Aimed at him,but of course harmless for the time being.Bob wouldn't have been surprised if he had worked for the human version of the Mafia before trading to this one. 

His mind was a machine,clean of guilt,remorse,empathy-he took orders,did his bloody job,and did not ask a lot of questions,as that not only invited trouble,but could get you killed.To live in this business,you kept your mouth shut. 

Luckily,Bob was in control,and keeping his mouth shut was no longer an option. 

He smelled demons in the lift,but there were none.There was a big square hole in the floor behind him,though.Shit,they went down the shaft."Who went down?"He asked the man,who could have had a walk on in any Scorcese movie. 

"Two Ressiks,Black,and Satchmo,"he reported,mouth as slack as his expression.But Bob doubted his face was ever very expressive. 

"Black and Satchmo?"He repeated,putting one of his guns in the holster in the back of his pants.He kept one gun out in case more Ressiks showed their ugly faces,but he was sure that Helga and Logan had already cleaned up the outside guard.After running into so many Ressiks at Seventh Circle,it seemed prudent to ask Lia to tell Amaranth to zap them some of his special guns,the ones with copper bullets meant to take out Ressiks.The cocky bastards never seemed to expect that. 

"Mister Black,the boss."Tony-that was his name,which seemed so damn appropriate-said. 

"Is he Human?" 

"I thought so,but I guess not." 

"Satchmo?" 

"Boss called him a Hai'satcha.Ugliest motherfuckin' demon I ever saw." 

Hai'satcha?Oh fuck,there was a creature he never expected to meet.But...oh shit-it made a twisted sort of sense,if Black was who he thought he was. 

He took the radio he had stolen from a Ressik on the way in off the waistband of his pants,and said into it,"Helga,Logan,come on down-we have some major shit going on here.Tell Scott and Jean if they're around they may need to get in on this too,but if they have no intention of killing,they can stay with the bloody jet." 

He didn't wait for a response,simply clipped the radio back on to his leather pants,and after briefly wondering what to do with Tony,said,"As soon as you come to,you will renounce all violence,and run off to the Midwest,where you will become a farmer and never think about this life again."It wasn't like Tony had family here;his kind traveled light,with no Human baggage to slow them down or make them weak.But Tony's days in the 'game' were now over."You're out now." 

Tony didn't fall to the floor than he collapsed,knees buckling,and he almost fell in the hole in the floor,but Bob grabbed him by the leg and pulled him out of the way,leaving him to sprawl like a small beached whale in the black blood slicked hallway. 

He then looked into the hole and started down the dark shaft,not waiting for Logan,Helga,or anyone else. 

A Hai'satcha was too dangerous to let loose near Xavier for long. 

** 

    Bob gave few clues as to what was actually going on,but when he said 'Hai'satcha',Helga hissed as if one of the dead Ressiks polluting the hall had come alive and stabbed her through the foot. 

"What?"Logan asked,seeing the hole in the elevator floor,beyond the sole Human in on this raid (he didn't smell demon,but with the swampy smell of Ressik blood cloying the hall,it was hard to tell). 

"We might be fucked,"she said. 

"So what else is new?" 

"Hai'satchas,given enough psychic energy,can rip holes in the fabric of time."He did a double take as she looked down the hole,and asked,"Do we climb,or just take the bloody thing down?" 

"Are you serious?How the fuck does it do that?" 

She shrugged."Ask Bob-he knows the mechanics.I just know how to kill them." 

"And how do we kill them?" 

She paused."With great difficulty." 

"I had to ask,"he grumbled,pulling her into the elevator.Xavier had locked them down,but he knew how to 'unlock' them,so in a few seconds the elevator began its silent descent,which they could watch through the hole in the floor.The bad guys had to know they were coming anyways,so surprise was not an option anymore. 

Logan noticed he had tracked Ressik blood into the elevator;he also had some of the stinky,viscous stuff on his chest.He had meant to at least grab a shirt,but hell,he'd fought shirtless and barefoot a lot of times-what was the difference now?Human,time ripping demon...yeah,all the same. 

Sure. 

"Can Bob handle it?"He wondered.The elevator came to a stop,and he instantly popped his claws while Helga pulled her gun. The place stank of Ressik so strongly he didn't know if they were waiting beyond the door or not. 

"I don't know,"she admitted."They're gateway demons,they can channel lethal amounts of psychic energy." 

"Bob amounts?"He wondered,as the door started to slide open,and a flurry of gunfire pierced the metal,filling the elevator with a deadly hail of bullets. 

** 

    Not for the first time,Xavier wished Rogue was not here,but there was no help to be had for it now.She was a teenager,and they were all rebellious (some more than others),and her exposure to Logan had probably not helped at all in that regard.It wasn't that Logan was rebellious,although he certainly had that streak in him;no,Xavier had him pegged for a contrarian more than anything else,an individualist due possibly more to circumstances than background-whatever his background actually was. 

His contact with Jean confirmed they had rescued Logan and were on their way back,but he got the sense she was hiding something from him.These men were not the ones responsible for Logan's mutilation (that was true),and he was 'physically' all right (also true),and thanks to Bob there was virtually no violence at all (again true),but there was something she was holding back.It was about Logan,he sensed that much,and she found it painful-he could push it and see for himself,but that was not his way.Besides,Jean often wished to discuss things like that in person,and he had no problem with that at all. 

Assuming,of course,there was a later. 

Bob,Logan,and Helga were on their way,and Jean and Scott were not far behind them,which was heartening,but he felt Bob would be the key here more than anyone.It wasn't just that he was a demon-he was a very powerful demon.Anyone who could warp reality simply by wishing it so was probably a great threat to everyone,and Bob,for all his folksy demeanor,was clearly a dangerous man-and yet,most of the time he did not use his powers recklessly or selfishly.For a so called demon he exercised a restraint and common sense that he could only hope Erik would find half of someday.It made him wonder how old Bob really was. 

They were in what Scott sometimes referred to as the 'war' room,where they usually discussed a plan of action (Logan's plan had been his plan alone-no 'modeling' was necessary).He suggested Rogue could leave through the back way,but of course she refused,even when it was possible to hear the faintest sound of multiple gunshots somewhere upstairs.He could have pushed her too,but again,not his way.He knew he might live to regret that. 

Xavier sensed that type of demon again,or a kind much like it-one with a mind like black glass.But there was something else, something even more disturbing,a presence not unlike a psychic black hole;he could almost feel its malevolent tug even from here,and it was far away.But quickly getting closer. 

Rogue must have see it on his face,because she asked,trying to be brave,"Something's comin',isn't it?" 

"I'm afraid so,"he admitted,then added,"They want me,not you.I really think it would be best if you left,Marie." 

"I'm not leavin' you,"she said firmly,showing off a stubborn streak that seemed terribly familiar.She then looked around the large room,which was lined with computer consoles,display screens,and precious little else,save for the large 'display' table that was the centerpiece of the room."If this is a war room,where are the weapons?" 

There was no lock on the door here,so there was nothing to hinder them coming in.Cerebro had a lock that was hard to get past,so maybe that would have been the place to stay,except he did not think any lock would keep these 'men' out,and Cerebro was no place to fight."Get behind me and stay behind me,"he said,as the door slid aside.Xavier wasn't actually expecting her to completely obey orders;he knew better than that. 

In the doorway appeared a rather bland looking man dressed in black,tall with a medium build and a lantern jaw,his blue-grey eyes like marbles set in a plastic face,his brown hair set so perfectly he could have been an anchorman on a local news channel.But the thing beside him... 

Xavier remembered reading a horror story by H.P. Lovecraft,about a demon called Cthulu,some sort of dark being from another plane of existence who drove people mad.He didn't really recall much about the story,save for Lovecraft's tendency towards purple prose,except that Cthulu supposedly had no real arms or legs,simply tentacles.Xavier now wondered if Lovecraft made any of his stories up. 

The thing beside the man-really a demon,he just didn't look it at the moment-was clad in black and hid his face with wrappings and a hat,but could not hide the fact that he had nothing but tentacles,and was also simply hovering a few centimeters off the ground.There was a strip of his face left uncovered,a strip that revealed three eyes set in a row,pure yellow (no whites,no obvious pupils or irises),that glowed like alien suns.Marie gasped and,for the moment,stood behind his chair.All that stood between them and the demons was the display table. 

"Xavier,long time no see,"the one that looked like a man said,and Xavier felt a shock of realization like a straight shot of adrenaline to the heart. 

He hadn't aged a day,and his face had changed,but then he was good at changing his face,wasn't he?"Stone,"he gasped, genuinely surprised.It had never even occurred to him that he might be still alive. 

"It's Black now,but I'm flattered you remember me." 

"So is that what this is about?Revenge?" 

Stone/Black's face set into a cold,angry expression that made him look truly inhuman for the first time."You ruined me, Xavier. You were the big prize,and if I caught you,I could have moved up in the ranks.I could be controlling the entire fucking government by now.But no-your psychotic fuck of a friend had to kill my best friend,free you and make my name dirt.It took me a long time,but I finally figured out a way to set things right." 

"Set things right?"He asked,both curious and buying time.He knew the others were on their way,and the closer Bob got he could feel it,like a small dull ache in the back of his mind.But it was possible Cthulu-or whoever he was-felt it too. 

Black/Stone simply gave him a cold,sharp edged smile that gave him an instant feeling of deja vu."Don't worry,you'll see." 

That was when Rogue came around to stand in front of him,throwing off her everpresent gloves,and raising her bare hands before her like the weapons they were."If you want him,you'll have to get through me first,"she said,with a surprising amount of bravery,especially since she was obviously terrified by Cthulu (hard to blame her there). 

Black laughed."And that's a threat,is it Britney?" 

"Touch me and you'll die,"she said.Not a threat,a point of fact. 

Black stopped laughing when he realized that,and there was a sudden burst of gunfire,far down the hall but loud and much closer than before,making the already tense Rogue let out a startled yelp of a scream and jump back a bit,and then there was another noise. 

It was a scream,loud and long and deep...no,not a scream-a full throated roar,of pain and,mostly,rage.That made Black jump and glance back down the hall,and if you didn't know better you might think it was an enraged tiger or an extremely aggrieved bear.But they knew better."Logan,"Rogue gasped,obviously frightened for him. 

But Xavier wasn't too concerned for him;tonight had obviously taught Black nothing.Bullets were not going to stop Logan, they were only going to piss him off.And if he was pissed off-and he certainly sounded like it-it was highly doubtful either Black or his many tentacled friend would leave here alive.A pity,as he did not condone killing...but how did one stop an enraged Logan? 

The roar stopped just a millisecond or two before the shots did,and there was a noise that was not so much a distant thud as it was a squelch.Even Black winced as he looked into the room once more,and eyed Rogue with great skepticism. 

"Look,little girl,I'm sure you have some big,scary mutant power,but you have no idea what you're dealing with here.Do you honestly think I could ever be scared of anything?" 

Suddenly there was a loud bang like a firecracker exploding just outside the room,and a part of Black's forehead exploded outward in a spurt of reddish black blood and tissue,and fragmented bone as white as snow.Rogue's startled shout was louder, but drowned in the rush of white noise after the gunshot.Black toppled to the floor,and revealed Bob standing outside in the hall,the smoking gun still in his hands. 

"You should have been,"Bob noted wryly,and then,at Xavier's look,added,"Fresgah demons can't be pushed." 

Cthulu turned his head to look at Bob,tentacles undulating like he was moving when in fact he seemed to stay in place,and considering he had swiveled his head around like an owl,Xavier wondered if it was a neck or conventional spine he was missing."Neither can I,Drai'shajan,"it hissed with contempt,its voice like the wind through a dead man's bones."Nor can you hurt me with your boom stick." 

"True,"Bob agreed with equanimity,tossing the gun aside.He then reached down and pulled a knife out of his boot,an ornate, filigreed dagger with a wicked curved blade that gleamed as silver as the moon."But I can hurt you with this." 

If it could be said that Cthulu recoiled,he did,his tentacles suddenly more busy centimeters over the floor,as if a sudden breeze had picked up that only he could feel."The Dagger of Bastet." 

"Oh,is it Bastet's?"Bob asked."I knew some animal headed god blessed it,I just wasn't sure which one." 

"You know what happens if you get near me,"Cthulu hissed-he sounded equally frightened and triumphant. 

Bob gave him a cold grin that would have put Black to shame,then glanced past him at Xavier."With enough of a psychic energy boost,our friend Satcha here can open a rip in time." 

"How?"Rogue asked,puzzled. 

Xavier wouldn't even pretend to understand how such a thing could work,but it brought to mind that twisting,Hydra like version of a wormhole Bob had sketched on the blackboard in his office.The world was far stranger than he could ever imagine."So that's what Black meant by set things right." 

Bob nodded."Futz with time.Kinda clever-for a complete idiot." 

"Would you like to open time,Drai'shajan?"Satcha hissed at him. 

Bob's smile actually became more evil,and he advanced on Satcha."Yeah,I think it'd be a lark." 

Xavier then understood that while Satcha could open a rift with Bob's energy,Bob was obviously sure he'd be able to control it, which wouldn't be the case if Satcha used him. 

Satcha moved so fast it was unreal;it was as if he was already warping time around him. 

He spun,pivoting like dancer,and his tentacles unfurled from beneath his black jacket and slammed into Rogue with a force that was hard to believe.Xavier heard the hit and winced,the force almost bone shattering,and Rogue flew across the room,crashing hard into a computer console on the opposite side of the room."Rogue!"He shouted,as she collapsed to the floor.She was at least unconscious,and it enraged him that he had hurt her...and that he could do nothing about it. 

Bob had charged Satcha at the same time,but again,Satcha moved as if he was the only one not hampered by the laws of physics, in air while the rest of them slogged through molasses. 

At the same time he hit Rogue,several other of his tentacles wrapped around the base pillar of the display table,and ripped it out from the floor,metal screaming and sparks spitting as its electrical cables were severed,and even though Bob saw it he could not move fast enough to completely avoid the table as Satcha slammed it into him,even harder than he had hit Rogue.Both Bob and the table went flying across to the right side of the room,where they impacted consoles so hard he heard glass and plexiglass shatter. 

"Enough!"Xavier roared,so furious he could hear his blood pounding in his head like a raging river."If you want me that badly, so be it,but leave them out of it."Enough people had been hurt on his behalf;too many. 

Satcha's eyes grew brighter,almost blinding,and Xavier figured he was smiling."I heard you were a reasonable man." 

The demon seemed to flow across (above) the floor towards him,tentacles undulating like snakes,and Xavier didn't notice until the last minute a noise out in the hall,almost imperceptible,but Xavier's mind reached out and sensed...rage,as pitch black as a starless night and as boiling as lava. 

Logan,shirtless and bloody (some of it was green blood,and black,but most was red) claws out,ran in the door and lunged at Satcha with a roar,his claws punching completely through Satcha's bandaged head. 

    24 

    Helga hit the wall and sunk low,trying to avoid the bullets even as she fired back,and Logan positioned himself in front of her to act as a human shield until the door opened enough to let him out. 

He felt the bullets rip his skin,bounce off his adamantium skeleton,and as soon as he could he lunged out at their attackers,so enraged and in so much pain he felt like he was watching him from outside himself,his bloodlust back in control,inflamed by the stench of his own blood. 

He slashed out blindly with his claws,shredding a Ressik's gun as well as his face,and as he screamed in pain (Logan got his eyes)he staggered back farther into the hallway.The second pumped bullets into his chest at point blank range,ignoring the fact that the bullets all seemed to be bouncing off and exposing his adamantium rib cage,and Logan lashed out violently,his claws slicing through rubber thick flesh and stone dense bone as he chopped the Ressik's head clean off. 

His body kept firing the gun for several seconds until it hit the floor,his head bouncing down the corridor,and the other Ressik heard it and tried to aim his other gun at Logan again,even though he couldn't quite see,but Logan simply slashed out and decapitated this one too.He was surprised to hear himself snarling,and was disappointed there weren't any more Ressiks-or anything else-to kill. 

Only then did a sudden wave of dizziness hit him and make him drop to one knee,and he felt the pain of healing,not only on his chest and abdomen but on his throat,and he knew why:a bullet had hit him in the neck and passed through to the other side without ever encountering bone.He felt the warm stickiness on his chest,and looked down to see a fresh gout of blood on his chest,where his skin continued to heal,growing over his exposed muscle and metal ribs,so much that it had stained the front of his torn and bullet hole ridden jeans black.If it hadn't been for his healing factor,he'd have bled to death;the throat wound would have been almost instantly fatal.The fact that he had lost enough blood to make himself dizzy,even though the wound had already closed,indicated it had severed a major artery.If he hadn't been too busy running on pure adrenaline he probably would have went down earlier. 


	15. Part 15

As soon as he got the strength back,he got back to his feet and stumbled to the elevator,where Helga was using the wall to stand up.He knew from the smell,as well as the splashes of green on the back of the elevator,that she had been shot too,a couple of times.Unlike him,she didn't have accelerated healing,although being a demon she was probably better off than a human. 

"You okay?"He asked,surprised to find his voice was a bit scratchy.Either he screamed too loud,or the bullet scraped his trachea,or both. 

"Yeah,"she said,her own voice sounding shaky.There was a splotch of green on her black t-shirt,close to her left breast,two on her left thigh,and blood running in jade rivulets down her left arm,but none of the wounds looked fatal (having slept with her,he felt confident in saying her heart was nowhere near her left side;if he didn't know better,it was closer to her back on the right,somewhere near the kidneys). 

There was a single gunshot in one of the connecting corridors,and as Logan glanced back,Helga cursed and fell against the wall of the elevator.Instinctively he reached out and steadied her,but she yanked her injured arm away violently,accidentally splattering her own blood."I'm cool,Logan,just off balance.I need to get these fuckin' slugs out of my leg,or they're gonna slow me down."She pulled a switchblade out of her back pocket and flicked it open,presumably to dig the bullets out.This was one ballsy dame-he really liked her. 

"I can do it if you want,"he offered,aware his claws were a lot sharper-and,in theory,less painful-than most blades. 

She shook her head as he heard,distantly,Xavier shout,"Rogue!" 

Shit! 

"No,Logan,go,"she said,a trickle of blood now dribbling from the corner of her full green lips."Help Bob.I don't want to lose him to another time.Our secret weapon's on the way,but you have to stall-buy some time." 

Secret weapon?He knew it couldn't be Scott or Jean,so who was it?Another Bob friend he had to assume.Had he called Angel? 

He simply nodded and ran down the hall,silent and sure footed despite the blood on the soles of his feet,and he knew he had no idea what he was going to have to do to kill the time ripper,but ultimately it didn't matter.She wanted him to buy time?He'd keep that fuck so busy even he wouldn't know what time zone he was in. 

He knew by smell and by sound where they were-the war room.How appropriate,because he intended to go nuclear on his demon ass. 

He heard Xavier's voice,angry and tense,but did not hear his words.The adrenaline was back,flooding his system like new blood,and the rage he felt seemed to fill him with energy,the bloodlust back in full. 

And if Helga was right,he was going to need it. 

He came roaring around the corner,muscles tensed,and threw himself claws first at the black clad thing between him and the rest of the room,aiming for what he just assumed was its head. 

All at once,he knew several things:it seemed to be hovering off the ground,and looked like some strange combination between Claude Raines in "The Invisible Man" and a giant squid;it smelled awful,like burnt hair and rotted meat;Bob was laying in one corner of the room,partially buried underneath the two hundred pound display table;and Rogue was laying in a crumpled heap on the other side of the room,and from here he could smell her blood. 

Man,was this ugly fucker dead. 

Even as his claws punched through the demon's skull,he knew this guy was fucking weird;it wasn't like cutting through bone and flesh,it was like cutting through gluey cement,only three fourths set.And yellow light seemed to burst through the new slices cut in his skull,like he was a blast furnace or something. 

"Logan,no!"Xavier yelled,and he honestly didn't know why,until he felt tentacles wrap around one of his legs,and while he slashed out with a claw,literally ripping it through its head (and tearing its black,peusdo-Amish hat off) in time to cut off the tentacle reaching it...the tentacle still wrapped around his throat like a python,squeezing tight enough to make his adamantium protected bones creak. 

What the fuck..? 

When its head seemed to seal up,the air shimmering around it like a desert vista,he understood what had just happened.This thing fucked with time on a minor scale as well as a broad scale,and somehow it altered time,just enough to escape from being hurt,or wasn't completely phased into this time anyways (would explain the weird consistency of its head).But it had phased just enough in to try strangling the life out of him.It was hard to breathe,but he wasn't quite strangling;it couldn't crush the bones in his neck,as much as it was trying to do so.He kept slashing at its face,at its tentacles,but it was like fighting something that wasn't really there. 

Then he felt the tip of one of its tentacles (not dry like a snake,but cold,slick,and rubbery-just like an octopus) trying to worm its way into the almost completely healed bullet wound in his throat.It was trying to tear the skin,and even though he knew it was just trying to rip his throat out since it couldn't crush it,he had a strange flashback to Krek getting at his throat with his goddamn arms (what was with all these tentacled demons?!Couldn't they have arms like normal people?),and it just made him angrier.He kicked out,the ball of his foot hitting the thing hard in what may have been its torso (who knew at this point?),but the point was he hit something solid-not gluey,not wavering out like a mirage in the distance-and it seemed to...well,not step back,but move suddenly,which was good enough for him.He kept kicking it,driving his heel into its sternum (well,he chose to think of it that way-he honestly didn't want to know what the coat was hiding)as hard as he could,and it must have hurt the bastard because he felt muscles in its tentacles tighten,twitch,and just before it happened he knew he was going to get thrown like a piece of garbage. 

But even though his lungs were starting to ache from the lack of decent air (the stench of this thing didn't help),and his throat hurt from the constant pressure,black spots exploding in front of his eyes like some really pathetic light show,he was ready for it when Squidward flung him across the room. 

Rather than simply collide with whatever he flung him towards,Logan had his claws ready,body tensed,so when he hit the wall he held on,claws cutting right through the metal plating,and put his feet flat against the wall like a rock climber.He took a deep breath,looked back at Squidboy-ignoring the literal pain in his neck-and just as he was ready to spring he saw Helga limp into the room and shoot him almost point blank in the back of the head. 

It did nothing to him,of course-Logan just knew it wouldn't-but he turned his attention on Helga,and that gave Logan a chance to twist off the wall and lunge for the demon,which hurt a hell of a lot more than it should have.But this time,he stabbed it through the back,where his neck (if he had one) might have met his spine(if he had one),and his claws punched through something that felt more solid,something a lot closer to flesh. 

But then again,so did the tentacle that wrapped tightly around his throat,trying to yank his head off. 

He kept driving his claws home,kicking him hard enough to shatter bone (if he had bones-he wasn't willing to bet money on that),and its tentacles slowly gathered up his limbs and threatening to rip him apart.Good luck to it-if it couldn't crush the adamantium in his throat,he doubted it would be successful.And now,having a good look at its hatless scalp,he saw it was a greyish white,a sort of maggoty color,and there seemed to be dozens of misshapen tumors and fleshy nodes just underneath its pasty skin,and he realized they were all very lucky they couldn't see his face.He had to be so unbelievably ugly the Human mind would find it hard to tolerate. 

The worst part was it had grabbed Helga too,and he was sure it would kill her;it already looked like it was trying to break her neck.He tried to squirm out of its grasp,or at least get its attention back,when he saw a blur out of the corner of his eye,and suddenly Helga's tail was holding a knife.If Squidboy saw it,for once it did not move fast enough to protect himself,and she drove it straight into his chest. 

Logan did not expect it to scream as it did,nor did he expect the burned meat smell that suddenly emanated from it,but the second he felt its grip slacken he yanked his arm free and drove one of his claws straight into its back and through its chest, ripping down as he dropped to the floor. 

It screamed like an air raid siren,high and ululating,and it seemed to fill the entire level,making Logan wince with the sheer volume of it.One of its tentacles snapped up and slammed into him,throwing him into a computer console,hard enough to break glass and knock the wind out of him,but he was only glad it had dropped (well,thrown) Helga. 

He noticed then a dark blur moving across the ceiling,and his first thought was Toad,but what the hell would he be doing here now,assuming he had survived Storm's flash frying of him (which he sort of doubted)?Also,beyond the burned meat smell of Squiddy,there was a new scent of burning tires. 

Flyboy.Shit-just what they needed,another goddamn problem. 

Flyboy skittered across the ceiling like a gecko (no,a fly),palms and soles flat against it even as he moved,until he was almost directly overhead of his Squid friend.He turned his head to look down,compound eyes bulging and black in their sockets,then he opened his mouth... 

...and projectile vomited black fluid all over the Squid. 

His screaming reached a new,agonizing pitch,as Squid was apparently unable to time shift himself away from the acid,which proceeded to make his skin(well,surface) bubble and pop,and the demon started melting like a candle left too close to a heater.He screamed as long as he could,tentacles drooping to the floor before he completely collapsed into a grotesque, liquefying heap.His screaming did not last very much longer at all,and the stray spatters of acid had already eaten through the metal floor. 

Now Logan was sure he'd suffered a severe head injury.Wasn't Fly guy on Squid's side?It wasn't a miss-he was aiming for him,and hit a three point shot.So what the hell was going on? 

He got it then,just as he got his breath back:Bob.Bob is what happened.He couldn't push Squid,but he could push the Fly. 

Speaking of which,Bob-who must have thrown Helga the knife (and what kind of knife was that?Squid sure didn't like it)-was out from under the table and sitting against the wall,blue blood from a deep gash on his forehead pouring down the side of his face,holding Helga tightly and murmuring something to her,probably healing her injuries. 

Logan hurt all over,and was rather surprised he was still standing,but looking at Bob and Helga,sitting there -their foreheads leaned against one another,him stroking her hair while she had her hand cupped around the base of his neck-he felt both terrible and slightly jealous.Terrible because he used Helga-no,in all fairness she used him-and jealous because they really did love one another;it was evident simply in the way they clung to each other. 

(And he loved her without fear,even though he knew he'd probably outlive her-like he had outlived how many others?Logan didn't know how he didn't go mad when everything he loved inevitably died and fell away.) 

He shook out of that pointless and strange reverie (he must have gotten a head injury),and looked to Xavier,who was staring intently at the remains of the Squid:even here at mutant central,watching people dissolve into puddles of goo like a scoop of ice cream on a hot day was not a common occurrence.He then looked up at the Fly,who had climbed down the wall on the far side of the room,and glanced at Logan,a pale eyebrow raised in a sort of mute skepticism."A friend?"He wondered. 

Logan didn't have to ask if Xavier was fine-clearly he was."Not by choice,"Logan admitted,then remembered Rogue and quickly  went to her. 

He had to pass Fly guy,now standing on the floor like an almost normal person (with fly eyes),and he gave him a leering grin, showing off yellow teeth that had been fused together."Hey,Wolvie,"he said mockingly,crossing his strangely long arms tightly over his strangely slender chest. 

Clearly he remembered him,and still felt that strange,lingering antipathy towards him,but he wasn't going to act on it,as much as he probably wanted to.Because Bob wasn't going to let him."Another time,asshole,"he growled,walking past him. 

"Indeed,"he agreed,with patently false amiability. 

He had just knelt beside Rogue when-too late to see the melting demon-Scott and Jean showed up."It's over?"Scott asked, sounding equally relieved and disappointed. 

"It's over,"Bob agreed,sounding a bit weak. 

"We encountered a few reinforcements outside,"Scott explained,and for the first time Logan realized he sounded slightly out of breath. 

"Jean,over here,"Logan said,remembering at the very last second he couldn't touch any of Rogue's exposed skin. 

Jean was wearing a long sleeved shirt,and pulled the fabric over her hands so she could grab Rogue and turn her carefully over onto her back.There was a small cut on her scalp,oozing blood,but that was the only apparent physical injury she had except for some red marks on her face that would probably become a monster bruise later. 

Jean glanced at him with great concern in her dark eyes,and asked,"Are you all right?" 

He knew he had healed from all the previous attacks,so it was probably just all the blood on his chest (and possibly tentacle marks around his throat) that bothered her."I'm fine.I'm always fine." 

She smiled tightly,and he was sure she was going to make some sort of comment-whether sarcastic or humorous or friendly he had no idea-but Scott asked,"Is this a friend of yours," and seemed to cause her to lose her nerve. 

Logan glanced over his shoulder and wasn't surprised to see him staring warily at Fly guy,one hand on his visor as if ready to shoot him.It wasn't a bad idea."Not of mine,no." 

"Everybody,Reddick.Reddick,everybody."Bob offered.Logan could see from here that Helga was no longer hurt,but blood still dripped down his face,and small shards of glass glittered in cuts on his cheek and forehead. 

"Demon?"Scott guessed. 

"Freak?"Reddick replied snarkily. 

"You're done here,Reddick,"Bob said dismissively,and as if that was the magic phrase,he stopped giving Scott the stink (fly) eye and simply left,with no further comment. 

"He was under your control,"Xavier said,realizing it for the first time. 

"Absolutely,"Bob agreed."He's a fucking psycho nutjob." 

"Then what the hell was he doing here?"Scott wondered,and while on the surface it seemed like a good question,Logan already knew the answer:Reddick was guaranteed to kill Squidboy.He had no other guarantees they would succeed. 

"He shut down the League.You no longer have to worry about it-the demon mob has been cleaned out of New York City."Bob  
,now that Helga had let him go,stood up with help from the wall and some supplemental help from her. 

"Shut it down?"Xavier asked,and then added,somewhat crisply,"Like he shut down this demon?" 

Bob simply nodded,looking grim but not at all sorry. 

"Was that necessary?"Xavier wondered. 

"Rhonik had it in for you too,so yes,"Bob replied,coming over to Rogue.As he knelt down beside her,Jean winced in sympathy at his injuries,apparently paying no attention to the fact that his blood was blue."I think you might need some stitches,"she said,remembering at the last second-much like he had with Rogue-that she couldn't touch him. 

He gave her a weak but appreciative smile."Nah,I'll be all right.I ain't Logan,but I heal pretty fast all the same." 

"How could you control him from such a long way away?"Scott asked,confused."Or was he hanging around here the whole time?" 

Bob scowled,as if he really didn't want to explain himself."Reddick was operating under the assumption that I was paying him three times his average salary to wipe out the League." 

"His group,"Scott commented,now scowling at him."Nice to know he's loyal." 

"He's a professional merc,"Helga pointed out,leaning against the far wall.Yes,she looked fine,in spite of her blood soaked clothes."His only loyalty is to the almighty dollar." 

"But you're not paying him,"Xavier said.It was not a question. 

"No,of course not." 

"So what happens to him now?"Scott asked. 

"He's not your problem."Helga said defensively. 

"I can assure you he'll be gone for good.He wiped out the League-he'll be even more sought after and feared than he was before." 

And Logan knew then Bob was lying:Reddick was a dead man,as dead as Hedwin,as dead as all those Ressiks cluttering the upstairs hallway.There was no way in hell Bob was going to let a psychopath like Reddick-no matter what he did on their behalf-walk away,just like he didn't let Hedwin walk away.And the troubled look in Xavier's eyes seemed to say he knew that too. 

But no one said a word.There were some things it was just best to leave alone,and some causes not worth fighting for. 

    25 

Two Days Later 

    It would have been nice of Bob to tell them how much Ressik blood stained everything,but maybe that was one of the few things he didn't know. 

Things were as close to normal around here as they'd ever be-everyone was recovered and back on their feet,all thanks to Bob (even Storm,whom he was finally able to do something for-and how lucky was she to miss all this shit),who was now okay himself.The bodies had been cleared out,the blood cleaned up as much as possible,and most of the major repairs done,although there was still a lot of work to do on the wing damaged by Legion.And while the display table had been replaced (Bob knew people everywhere,and so did Xavier,apparently.Old guys with money-go figure),the hole in the floor caused by Reddick's acidic spit was still there.In the end,there had been nothing of the Hai'satcha,save for a puddle of goo that didn't even begin to fill up a bucket. 

No word had been heard of the insectoid Reddick,and no one cared. 

Logan knew this was probably Bob and Helga's last day here-he knew it was for him.And after what he dreamed/remembered last night,he wasn't sure where he was going to go. 

Xavier had suggested that Bob should come back to guest in at least one physics lecture,especially after all this,no matter that he wasn't a mutant.Xavier didn't know why the Hai'satcha still wanted him after Black/Stone was dead,but Bob figured the Hai'satcha knew it was getting payment from Stone no matter the time line he was in.So the Hai'satcha would go back in time (killing Xavier in the process),tell Black what was going to happen,and Black would have Magneto taken out before 'collecting' Xavier.Of course,Xavier wondered how that worked-how could the  Hai'satcha kill him in this time line,and yet go back in his time line (in other words,if Stone's planned worked,he wouldn't exist for the Hai'satcha to kill in the future,so he couldn't go back in time to tell Stone about Magneto...)-but Bob suggested he not think too hard about it:recursive time lines, causality, parallel universes were a big mess that would make your head explode.Logan could believe that,and didn't even try to think about it. 

The students weren't back yet,but they were scheduled to return tomorrow,which is why he figured he'd leave tonight.He felt awkward around kids in general,but especially here:he was not a teacher,he was not anything but the strange guy who seemed to exacerbate hidden tensions in the otherwise happy group. 

Odd man out.And really,he wouldn't have it any other way. 

He casually knocked on the door of the room where Bob and Helga had been staying while here at the mansion.After a moment Bob said-no,sang,in a comically lilting manner,"Entree,come in,welcome-" 

What a bizarre man he was. 

When Logan did come in (and he had instant second thoughts about it),he found Bob looking through the wardrobe,dripping wet and dressed only in a white towel wrapped loosely around his waist."Good day,Logan,"he said,continuing to look through the cabinet.When had they brought clothes in,or did they just buy some?"What's on your mind?" 

He couldn't think of a way to ask,so he just said it:"Did you push me last night?" 

Bob gave him a deceptively casual glance,his hair darker now that it was wet and plastered to his scalp;it looked almost black, and he looked almost younger,which seemed impossible.He was at least what,three hundred years old,and he looked just about thirty,yet now he looked almost teenaged."What makes you think that?" 

Logan scowled at him."How could you fuckin' do that to me,Bob?I thought I could trust you." 

Bob turned towards him,his look strangely melancholy."I heard you the night before,Logan,and I thought it was time that sleep wasn't so painful for you." 

The belly full of indignant rage he was building up began to sputter out."What?"He had a nightmare-okay,memory-the night before,sure,but he didn't wake up screaming...did he?Sure,he woke up violently,in a cold sweat,the mattress slashed from his claws,but he didn't scream,he was sure he hadn't.After all,no one had come to check on him- 

Because they were used to it.He didn't sleep more than he spent half the night howling,like a pent up,wounded dog.How embarrassing was that?It was bad enough his claws had popped and shredded the bedding:it was the bizarro,violent equivalent of a wet dream. 

Logan huffed a sigh through his nose and shook his head,disgusted with himself and with Bob."Shit.Look,don't fuck with my head anymore,no matter how good your intentions." 

"What did you remember?"Bob asked curiously. 

Logan felt a cold shock of something (fear?) grip him as he glared at Bob in annoyance,and noticed for the first time how truly vulnerable he was.Naked save for a towel,water still dripping down his skin,matting down his dark chest hair,he looked very Human and very fragile,like a claw slash could really hurt him. 

As if Bob was a mind reader,he gave him a rangy,surprisingly easy going smile,and said,"It's fun to think you could hurt me, isn't it?But it ain't gonna happen.And,for the record,all I told you last night was 'Remember something that isn't so painful'." 

He wasn't sure if he dared trust him."That's all?" 

"That's all,I promise.You must have remembered something other than being vivisected,'cause I didn't hear you screaming." 

Logan wasn't going to tell him,but he had to tell someone,and if he was somehow responsible for this bloody mess than he deserved to hear it.It was quite possible Bob was the only one who could understand. 

He sat on the end of his bed-it was the only place to sit-and kept his back turned to him so Bob could have some privacy getting dressed."I was hoping it was a dream,like the one before." 

"The one before?Are you sure it wasn't another memory?" 

Logan grimaced to himself.He really didn't want to get into this."Oh yeah.It was a dream about this place.And Jean." 

"Jean?Oh,one of those kind of dreams.Those are always fun." 

"Yeah,well...it was kinda weird.For some reason,I was the gardener around here." 

Bob suddenly dropped something,something glass that bounced off the dresser and landed harmlessly on the grey carpet, remaining in one piece.Logan glanced over his shoulder to make sure he was okay,but saw Bob hunched over the bureau,his broad shoulders shaking as if he was trying to keep from laughing out loud."What?"Logan asked,feeling annoyed once more. 

"I'm just trying to..."Bob gasped,between paroxysms of explosive laughter."...imagine you...as a gardener."He barely finished the sentence before dissolving into hopeless,almost hysterical laughter. 

"Yeah,I didn't get that either,"he reluctantly admitted. 

It seemed to take Bob a minute to get a hold of himself (it wasn't that funny),and as he wiped tears from his eyes with the back of his hand,Logan thought he heard him mutter something like,"Sneaky girl."But Bob straightened up and turned to face him,all business and sobriety."But you think the second dream was a memory?" 

"I don't know,"he admitted wearily."If it was,I think I know why I speak Japanese." 

Bob pulled on a pair of black silk boxer shorts,and tossed his towel aside."You remembered being there?" 

"No,but I think I remembered my reason for being there."Logan said,recalling the dream with a clarity that made it painful. 

As if it wasn't painful enough already. 

** 

    Logan didn't know why it hit him,but sometimes it did. 

Sometimes he was seized by a sudden,strange claustrophobia,where it felt like the walls were closing in on him,threatening to collapse and bury him alive.It was stupid and impossible,but when the fear came it was a bit too powerful to reason away, although not for lack of trying.Maybe he was buried alive once;it really wouldn't surprise him. 

He stood on the porch of his cabin and looked out at the dark forest surrounding his small,rustic (temporary) home on all sides,the pine and fir trees looking black in the dimness,huge dark feathery plumes that towered over him in the still of the night.But the phrase itself was a lie-it was anything but still. 

It would seem that way to normal people,maybe,but Logan wasn't normal.His acute senses told him how busy it truly was in the deep,dark heart of the forest:owls lurked on branches,scouring the undergrowth for prey that scuttled and scurried,aware of the raptor's eyes on them and hoping to escape;and on the ice cold breeze coming down from the slopes of the Canadian Rockies,he caught the scent of wild cats,wolves,even a bear,although since they weren't nocturnal he doubted it was anywhere around now.If it was,he doubted the others things would have come to the forest,save for the owls;nearly everything was afraid of bears. 

He wasn't afraid of them,though,or any animal.In general-and unlike humans-if you left them alone,they left you alone,unless they were ill or starving,and in that case you usually did them a favor by putting them out of their misery. 

He scented Cat under the porch,probably hiding out from all the big bads out there on the prowl.Cat was an abandoned,feral housecat that seemed to have adopted him,or at least adopted his table scraps,the closest thing he had ever had to a pet as far as he knew.He couldn't get anywhere near it,but sometimes when he sat on the stairs it would sit on the edge of the path,or the other end of the porch,and they enjoyed a companionable silence.It was all very bizarre,and sometimes he thought it was funny,although he didn't know why. 

'Yes you do,' he thought to himself.'Because as pathetic as Cat's existence is,he should know better than to hitch his wagon to a trouble magnet like you.' 

True enough.Sometimes he thought he should have a big sign to hold up wherever he went:'Unless you want to die hideously,stay far away from me'. 

If he could,he'd stay far away from himself.He kept trying,but so far it hadn't worked.As the stupid cliche went,wherever you go,there you are. 

Logan grabbed one of the wooden beams holding up the roof over his porch and climbed up it,onto the simple tar papered roof.The wood beneath creaked under the sudden appearance of his two hundred pounds plus weight,but it held.It had probably withstood heavier falls of snow than him. 

His breath exploded in white plumes before him,the night as clear and cold as ice,and as he laid back on the roof,he looked up and saw the magnificent,open sky:as black as velvet and riddled with what seemed to be a million bright stars as blue white as perfect diamonds,the crescent moon hanging high over the right quadrant of the sky as bright as a torch.He could just make out the grey pockmarks of craters on its luminous surface,and the faint curve of the unilluminated portion of the planetoid. 

It was so beautiful here it seemed to hurt;nights like this he got a strange ache in his breastbone sometimes,which was either psychosomatic or perhaps an old injury that really hadn't healed as well as it should. 

Not physical.He could have handled it if it were merely physical.It was the other type of wounds that killed him. 

He thought he had a dream of her when he dozed off while reading,and wondered if that had brought on the sudden fit of claustrophobia.He had the vaguest memories of feeling her silky hair caress his cheek,her soft lips brush his forehead,his hand on her hip,feeling the curve of bone beneath the warm,thin skin..and he woke up feeling sick with anger and despair,clothes sticky with sweat and the almost undeniable urge to start destroying things.But he didn't have much,and destroying it seemed pointless,as it wouldn't hurt the people he wanted to hurt,and it wouldn't bring her back. 

He dug into the inner pocket of his beaten leather jacket and pulled out a photograph,crinkled and worn from use and time,but still recognizable.Her hair was an ebony veil framing her pale face,her crimson lips curved up in a smile verging on a laugh which was still visible in her sparkling hazel eyes,lovely almond shaped eyes that dominated her delicate,heart shaped face,and her head rested against his as she hugged him tightly just before the photograph was taken.As always,seeing his own face next to hers-the stubbly beard,the wary green eyes,the reluctant smile-he wondered what someone as beautiful as her ever saw in him.He always thought it was some kind of fluke that she loved him,a double fluke that she agreed to marry him...and paid for that,in the big scheme of things. 

It was coming up on the anniversary of her death,wasn't it? 

When the time came,no matter where (or who) he was,he tried to get back to Japan,laid roses (her favorite-red as blood) on her grave,and hoped that she forgave him for not being able to save her.He knew they might know,though;he tried to keep that secret,cover his tracks,keep her all to himself,but they still might have followed him or figured it out.They might be waiting for him at the airport in Tokyo,ready to collect him and drag him back in whether he liked it or not. 

He would go,he knew he would.He owed that to her. 

Of course,the visits weren't really for her,were they?He didn't believe in an afterlife,never had;he felt you had one life,and if you blew it,you blew it.She never knew he was there,she never knew of his yearly pilgrimages,or of the caretaker he paid to make sure her grave and her marker were kept immaculate,like he knew she would like.He knew when he talked to her,she couldn't hear him,nor could she ever forgive him,if she did in fact blame him.But,knowing her,she didn't;no matter what,no matter what a moody pain in the ass he was,no matter how secretive he had to be,she somehow managed to love him anyways, even when he couldn't stand himself.Even when he couldn't save her,and fell short of avenging her.He would someday though-of that he had no doubt.He would do it if he had to wait until the end of goddamn time itself. 

He visited her yearly for himself.He loved her,and her death had hurt him like nothing ever had;it scared him,made him furious,and shaken him to his very core.And sometimes he missed her so much it felt like he was being smothered,grief enfolding him and crushing him like a giant's fist.Time was supposed to make it wane,or if not ease it just make it more tolerable to live with,but every time he remembered her it was like a knife through his heart,a fresh and devastating wound. 

He forgot so much in his life,but he didn't mind the pain.Pain meant he was still alive. 

No-his biggest fear was that someday,somehow,he would forget her. 


	16. Part 16

He tucked her photo back inside his pocket,and decided he'd go into town tomorrow,see about getting a ticket to Tokyo,and worry about his pursuers whenever they caught up with him.They would not keep him from her,not now,not ever again. 

** 

    Logan sat with his head in his hands so he did not have to look up,so he didn't have to face Bob and could be lost in the eternal darkness behind his own eyes. 

He felt Bob sit down close to him though,felt his weight shift the mattress,and for a moment he didn't say anything.Logan was sure he didn't know what to say."If that was a real memory,Bob,I had a wife,"he said,still not wanting to believe it."A wife who died because of me." 

"You don't know that,"he said gently. 

"Yes I do,"he insisted,anger burning in his throat like bile."Everybody's life I touch gets hurt,Bob." 

"Not all of us." 

"You don't count,Bob,and you fucking know it."He growled,digging the heels of his hands into his eyes to wipe away sudden,angry tears.He did not cry,and their unexplained appearance enraged him further. 

"What bothers you most about this?"Bob asked,not unkindly."The fact that you completely forgot her,or the fact that,at one point,you had a life?" 

That felt like a hit,an actual physical blow,and the urge to hit him back came quickly,but didn't stay for long.The anger remained,but while he felt it towards Bob,he knew it was really him being angry with himself more than anyone else."It's not my fault I forgot." 

"I never said it was." 

"And what the hell's that 'life' crack supposed to mean,huh?I have a life." 

"No,Logan,you have a crusade.That's very different."His voice was level,even,almost sorrowful,and it drove Logan crazy with its implied sympathy and goddamn reasonableness.Logan jumped to his feet and wheeled on Bob,wanting to hurt him-hurt someone,anyone-so badly his hands were already curled into fists,his claws almost itching to burst through his skin. 

Bob remained sitting on the end of the bed,still dressed only in his underwear,looking up at him calmly,without a hint of fear or shock;his neon eyes were sad,his expression pensive,nearly verging on patronizing.If it had been,Logan would have raked it off his face,or at least gave it a goddamn college try,but Bob seemed to ride the line carefully,aware he was approaching a danger zone."Now what the fuck does that mean,Drai'shajan?" 

Bob grimaced at the mention of his 'title',but it didn't effect him otherwise."You've been hurt more than most people could ever be in three or four lifetimes,Logan.I don't think anyone would hold it against you that you've made revenge a way of life.It was probably the only thing that kept you sane."  
"I want answers,not revenge,"he snapped,but it sounded false even to his ears. 

"Perhaps it's fair to say you want both,"Bob allowed."But have you prepared yourself for the possibility that you won't like some of those answers?" 

Was Bob reading his mind?Did he already know?Well,hell,he was there,he heard what Hedwin said about Siberia.He felt strangely enervated,wrought out,and ended up sitting on the edge of the bed,glad he could face the wall and not Bob."Yeah,I thought I had.But..."he didn't even know how to say it."After Legion showed up,I dreamed about this nightclub full of people,all dead,most without any marks on them.It felt like the past,but there was contemporary music playing so I knew it couldn't be.But,the other night..." 

"It revised itself?" 

"You could say that." 

"Can I see?" 

Logan shrugged,not really wanting him to,but it would spare him saying it.Bob reached out and touched his shoulder,and Logan did his best to concentrate on the dream,which he was already struggling to forget. 

All was as it was before,nightclub full of dead bodies,lights still throbbing and music still blasting from the sound system,but this time there was blood,and marks on several bodies. 

Claw marks. 

"Mind and body gagged and bound on a new,familiar playing ground,"Bob began singing quietly.It took Logan a moment to realize he was singing along with the song actually pounding over the club's sound system."The ordinary will ignore whatever they cannot explain-"Finally noticing the look Logan was giving him,he stopped,and removed his hand from Logan's shoulder."Sorry,Public Image Limited.That was my favorite song of theirs." 

Logan scowled at him."Well,goody for you.I killed those people,Bob." 

"No you didn't." 

"You saw it-" 

"What I saw was a club full of dead bodies,but you can't be the only mutant with claws.And I personally know several demons with claws." 

"But if I didn't kill them,what the fuck was I doing there?"It was too good to be true,but he did want to believe.Maybe that was Bob's ultimate power-you wanted so desperately to believe him. 

"I don't really know,but I may be able to find out." 

Logan gave him a curious sidelong glance."How?" 

"Well,that song places the whole setting in the '80's,and how often were their unexplained club massacres that got conveniently covered up?Okay,we're probably talking hundreds,but massacres by claw really narrows things down." 

Logan raised an eyebrow at him."You're being sarcastic,right?" 

Bob gave him a kindly smile."Sure,if you'd like." 

Okay,that was disturbing."Why did I remember it if I didn't do it?" 

"Legion,perhaps.You said they stank,right?" 

Sometimes he was positive Bob was speaking another language that only seemed like English."Are you going somewhere with this,or just tryin' to confuse me as a distraction?" 

"Smell is desperately underrated as a memory source,but smells evoke memories more powerfully than anything else,and I bet that's doubly true in a person with a sense of smell as acute as yours.You probably scented something a lot like Legion in that club,and your mind churned it up." 

"Couldn't have been Legion." 

"Probably not,but,as I said,a lot of demons smell that bad." 

"So do some mutants,"he admitted,thinking about Sabertooth.He smelled like some strange combination of polecat,human,and wet dog. 

Bob got up and went back to the dresser,and as he was pulling on a pair of jeans,he said,"I can look into Japan for you too." 

"Look into what?"Logan asked,feeling another twinge in his stomach.He had almost forgotten again,and would have been happy to leave the topic alone. 

"A gaijin,hairy,who spoke fluent Japanese ,seemed to have a good working knowledge of the ninja/samurai subcultures, and had a Japanese wife shouldn't be too hard to track down info about." 

"You just had to add hairy." 

"Hey,except for the occasional mustache,facial hair ain't never been that big in Japan.It's a cultural thing." 

Unable to keep the sorrow out of his voice,he said,"I can't remember her name,Bob.I can just barely remember her face in that photograph.If she was still alive and I saw her face tomorrow,I'd never remember her." 

"No,Logan,you would." 

"How in the hell can you say that?"He snapped irately,the anger resurgent and strangely comfortable. 

Bob stopped zipping up his pants,leaving his belt undone,and gave him a look that seemed to say "wait until you're older". "Because you've never really forgotten,Logan.It's been lurking in the back of your mind,waiting to resurface.You just needed a little push,that's all." 

"I'd rather forget,"he admitted,surprising himself."Maybe you could do a surgical push,Bob.Maybe you could make me forget all this shit.All the surgery especially." 

Bob studied him long and hard,his expression equally sober and sad."Are you serious,Logan?" 

"Fuck yeah I'm serious-maybe I could actually sleep without wakin' up screamin' for once." 

Bob grimaced again,his eyes full of something close to pity."They're painful,Logan,but they're your memories,and you have so few.Do you really want me to take them away?" 

"Yes.No.I don't know."He finally admitted,weary,angry,and so frustrated the urge to start breaking things came upon him again."My head's been fucked with so much does it matter?" 

Bob pulled on a royal blue t-shirt close to his eye color,and then said,"Of course it matters,Logan.But if I give you the "if you give up they'll win" speech I just know you'll hit me." 

"Damn right." 

He was silent for a moment,putting on his watch,putting on a gold ring Logan had never really noticed he wore (well,no,he had,he just never really thought about it),and just as Logan was about to take back what he said about fucking with his head (it had been fucked with enough),Bob said,"It doesn't seem fair,does it?We have these abilities,these resilliancies,and yet the people we care about still die.We can't always protect them,we can't always save them,and while logically we may know this...it still hurts.Every goddamn time it still hurts." 

"You can do more about it than me." 

"Not always." 

"Oh,come on-it has to be a perk of the job." 

Bob turned at him and gave him a curious look,his pale lips curving up in a hint of a smirk."What job would that be?" 

He wanted to play it coy,huh?Well,sure,yeah-Bob liked to do that.As he got to his feet,Logan said,"I've been thinkin' about it, how all those demons kept referring to you as 'Drai'shajan',as if that was supposed to mean something.I thought maybe it was your real name-there's no way in hell your actual name is 'Bob'-but they said it like a species...or a title. 

"I know you said it doesn't translate,but you are full of shit,Bob;you just don't want to tell us what it means.And I got stuck on the 'shah' part of that for some reason,and I was thinking how different you smell from the only other Belial I've met." 

"Demons are like people,Logan.We may be the same species,but we all smell different."He was giving him a small smile that was perfectly unreadable:a poker face. 

"You don't have to tell me that,"he pointed out."I know.But while Storm and Jean smell different,I know they're both humans- that never comes into dispute." 

"I don't smell demon enough for you?"He asked,a tinge of humor in his voice. 

"You don't smell demon,you don't smell human.You don't smell like anything I've ever encountered before." 

"Is that a compliment or a complaint?"He replied humorously.But Bob knew he was serious. 

"I was thinking-Shahs,Kings,royalty-but no,I didn't think so.They said Drai'shajan like it was something to be feared,and I can't see Ressiks giving a flying fuck about some demon royalty." 

"I can't be royalty-I'm Australian,"he protested humorously. 

But Logan just glared at him."The key was that knife,which Xavier said the Hai'satcha identified as being the artifact of some mythical Egyptian goddess." 

"Not really mythical,"Bob interjected,crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the dresser.The expression on his face remained perfectly unreadable. 

"And you claimed to have met Ganesh,or whatever that elephant headed Hindu god is called,right?Now,that could be more of your bullshit,but the more I thought about it,the more it made an insane kind of sense..." 

"What did?Ganesha?" 

"You're a demi-god.That's what Drai'shajan means,isn't it?" 

Bob snorted in laughter and looked away,shaking his head."Logan-" 

"You're not powerful enough to be an actual god,but you skirt the line sometimes,don't you?" 

"I didn't think you believed in gods."He replied. 

"I don't have much choice with you around,do I?"Logan snapped back. 

Bob stood up straight,unfolding his arms and letting them hang at his sides as he faced Logan,still grimacing,but it seemed both humorous and pained at the same time."That's a very interesting theory,Logan,but do demi-gods just happen?" 

"You tell me." 

He sighed,shaking his head."You want to know the truth about gods?They're mostly pricks.If they think of other people at all, it's just as playthings,things to be used and discarded at will.Ganesha's a dag,but probably because the other gods don't take him seriously,and his powers are limited." 

"Is that why you're only a demi-god?Not prick enough to abandon everyone else?" 

Bob picked up his black sunglasses from the dresser and slipped them on before giving Logan a very sly,calculating smile. "That's an entertaining theory,Logan." 

He couldn't help but notice Bob hadn't actually come right out and denied it.Shit,was he right?"It would explain why you never come out and tell anyone what you really are." 

"Does it?" 

"You're ashamed of it." 

Bob's small,unreadable smile seemed to collapse in on itself,slowly curving down into a sad frown.Had he honestly sussed it?Had he actually figured out exactly what Bob was?"Tell me something,"he went on,feeling obscurely bad that he continued to press the issue.But at any time,Bob could make it stop,and they both knew it."If you paid no mind,would you have any matter at all?"That plagued him,because all Bob smelled of was power;energy so far and away different than any other kind of energy source he had ever scented,and he was starting to wonder if having a physical form was a choice,something he could abandoned at will if he really got tired of it. 

Bob was either going to tell him he was nuts or push him when the door opened,and Helga came in the room.She looked between them and gave them her patented playful smile."Oh hey,does this mean I get to have my threesome?" 

"I'm outta here,"Logan said,quickly grabbing the edge of the door before it shut. 

Helga grabbed him by the shirt,though,and pulled him in for a very gentle kiss,her lips just brushing his."When you get back to L.A.,look me up sometime,tiger." 

He shook his head,but she continued giving him that luminous,impish smile that almost made him smile back in spite of himself."Will do.Take care of yourself,Helga." 

"Always do,"she replied,letting him go.Then,when he was half way out the door,added,"Take care of yourself too,Logan." 

"I do." 

"Not nearly well enough,"Bob said somberly."See you around." 

And that didn't sound like a farewell more than a promise.Logan figured he could live with that. 

*** 

    Logan had just gotten on his bike when he sensed her watching him from the doorway.He wasn't going to acknowledge her,but finally he looked over his shoulder with a sigh."Is something wrong?" 

Jean,who had been leaning against the door jamb,straightened up and shook her head."No.It's just that you're always   
seem to be leaving.There's a place for you here,you know." 

"Yeah,I know,"he said,but it didn't feel like he meant it.Maybe there was a place,but did he belong here at all?Yes,he was a mutant,but they all seemed to dwell in a safe world that felt so foreign to him. 

It was still morning,the sun relatively low in the clear azure sky,and while he felt its rays warming his face,he still felt remarkably cold and distant.He didn't belong here.He just didn't know where he belonged. 

Jean continued to study him from the mansion doorway,and she looked conflicted,as if she wasn't sure what to say."Where are you going?"She finally asked,crossing her arms over her chest. 

"Back to Alberta.I think I remembered living somewhere out there,before...before everything.I was gonna see if I could track it down."It was a long shot-searching for what must have been a destroyed cabin among hundreds of cabins in the endless acres of woods surrounding the Rockies,but if he found it,maybe he'd find remaining pieces of his past.Maybe even fragments of her. 

"If we can help at all-"she began,but he interrupted her,suddenly eager to be on his way. 

"I'll call,"he said with a nod,and kick started the bike. 

"Good luck,Logan,"she said,gazing at him somewhat sadly."I hope you find what you're looking for." 

He glanced back at her,and wanted to say something profound;he even had a momentary urge,quickly discarded,to ask her to come with.But he had to do this alone. 

As he was always alone,and it was high time he just got used to it."Me too,"he finally said,and with a rev of the engine pulled away,leaving the mansion and everyone in it behind. 

He knew he was headed back towards his past;he couldn't help but wonder what old,fresh horrors awaited him there. 

The End  



End file.
